


Therianthropy

by antivanitas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Creampie, Cryptids, Dubious Consent, Elemental Magic, Fae & Fairies, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Horror, M/M, Magic, Mates, Mind Control, Mindbreak, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Smut, Trans Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antivanitas/pseuds/antivanitas
Summary: “You killed my best friend.”  It’s not a question.  He already knows.“Iateyour best friend.”What started as a camping trip with Shiro spirals into Keith's worst nightmare.  Thrust into a world within our own, Keith must come to terms with the fact that his best friend is dead.  And, slowly, he learns to accept the murderer wearing Shiro's skin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea from some reddit post about skinwalkers and i feel bad cus i don't remember who it was so i can't source it. anyways it stuck in my head because it was this guy who went camping with his friend, and then he thinks he came home with a skinwalker pretending to be his friend. and op mentions that his laugh/mannerisms/words felt like they were recordings on repeat because the skinwalker didn't know how else to be the friend.
> 
> regardless this fic is my first attempt at...horror?? i guess?? there are some weird moments that i think could be creepy. but then keith gets dicked because like, of course, he wants cock even if it's from a murderous monster.
> 
> JUSt a quick warning this does contain mindbreak, and idk if you count that as noncon, but yeah it's there.  
> anyway have fun.

Keith rolls over and there is nothing beside him.

 

For a few moments, Keith doesn’t think much of it, in his between-sleep state of mind.  But, then, he starts to remember.  Shiro.  Shiro is supposed to be next to him, sleeping, in their tent—they’re camping, they have a tent together, and this is _wrong_.  Something is wrong.  It’s a kind of absence Keith knows doesn’t come from Shiro going to take a piss.

 

It’s overwhelming.  All-consuming.  Keith feels like he’s drowning.  The night outside of the nylon is completely silent.  There are no signs of sunrise.

 

He waits.  For about fifteen minutes, Keith sits in dead silence, and the only audible thing is his blood rushing through his ears, and his heart causing his throat to pulse.  With every second, he wishes Shiro would come back.  Wherever he is.  God, what if something happened to him?  Why the fuck would he wander off at night, into the fucking woods, like a goddamn idiot?

 

Shiro has a very particular way of convincing Keith to do things—usually, Shiro’s actions come from a complete lack of awareness of the fact that Keith is in love with him.  So, camping?  A normal camping trip.  _We haven’t been in ages!  C’mon, remember when we were kids?_

 

He does.  Sitting by the river in the hatchback of Shiro’s father’s van.  Munching on butter waffle pretzels out of a red solo cup.  Watching Shiro try to light a fire so he can cook their hot dogs.

 

They aren’t kids anymore.  They’re in college.  It’s not okay to play stupid games like this, anymore. 

 

Keith breathes deep, clenches his eyes shut, and starts to unzip his sleeping bag.  As he untangles himself and crouches in the small tent, he prepares himself to see Shiro sitting out there, staring at the stars.  He hopes that’s what he sees, and not Shiro’s remains strewn across the campsite.  Fuck, he’s paranoid.

 

When he unzips the tent, his fingers are shaking.  He allows his eyes to adjust.  Shiro is seated on a log by the fire circle.  His back is hunched.  And Keith immediately feels his heart sink—how could he have thought those awful things earlier?  Shiro is having a flashback or a panic attack or _something_.

 

“Shiro...?”  Keith steps out of the tent, and the sound of his feet crunching leaves causes Shiro to turn in place.  “Hey, what’s up?”

 

He can’t make out Shiro’s face or his expression—it’s too dark.  But he can see vague body movements, and Shiro shrugs, turning away once more.  He doesn’t speak.  Keith creeps closer, until he can sit on the log with his best friend.

 

“You’re supposed to be having fun,” Keith tries to tease, bumping their shoulders together.  Shiro is comfortingly warm, and Keith leans against him.  For those few minutes, Keith had been running the bloodiest of scenarios through his head.  It’s a small pleasure to assure himself those were all paranoid, sleep-deprived thoughts.

 

Shiro clears his throat, but doesn’t speak.  Keith furrows his brows, and leans forward to get a good look at Shiro’s face.  He appears pensive.  Deep in thought.

 

“Wanna talk about it?” Keith asks.  “You have a nightmare, or something?”

 

Shiro shakes his head.  Finally, he speaks—his voice is rough, and it cracks.  “I guess.  Just thinking.”

 

Keith frowns.  Something about those words...it’s familiar.  Keith recalls the countless times he’s comforted Shiro after a nightmare.  He’s probably said the same exact thing before, and that’s how Keith realizes with a painful jolt just how often this happens.

 

“Let’s go back to bed, man,” Keith urges.  “You need real sleep.”

 

“I’ll stay here.”

 

“No, dude, come on.  It’ll feel better in the morning.  I promise.”

 

Finally, Shiro meets his eyes.  Familiar grey meets dark blue, and Keith smiles, standing and offering a hand.

 

Shiro takes it.

 

* * *

 

“Let’s stay another night,” Shiro says, as Keith begins to roll his sleeping bag.

 

Keith freezes.  “We have class tomorrow.”

 

“We can skip,” Shiro suggests.  He’s on the log again, sipping from his water bottle, wearing a painfully tight white t-shirt that forces Keith to look away.  “How many classes do you even have?”

 

“Four,” Keith reminds him, because Shiro skips _all the time_ and doesn’t remember that Keith has to get good grades, because he’s not rich, and he needs his scholarship.  “We can come back next weekend, if you want?”

 

There’s a heavy pause.  It’s the kind of silence that makes Keith think he _fucked up_ , to the point of Shiro storming off into the woods on his own.  But, then, Shiro speaks, and Keith can hear the smile in his voice.  “Yeah, I’d like that.  I guess I got you addicted to this.”

 

_You’re fucking addicting_.  “Guess so, you hippie.”

 

Shiro laughs, and Keith can’t help but bite back a grin.  Between his scare last night and the knowledge that he slept next to Shiro for the first time in three years, Keith is glad to hear something so incredibly reassuring.

 

Once the site is cleared up, they make their way back to the car, which is parked precariously in what is very obviously a no parking zone.  But, it’s not marked, because they’re so out in the middle of nowhere, and no one is bothering to administer tickets.  It’s sunny, and humid, and Keith notices that Shiro isn’t sweating.

 

“Drink your water, dumbass,” Keith says, as he passes Shiro on the trail, and he taps Shiro’s water bottle on the way.  “Work up a fuckin’ sweat.”

 

Shiro laughs.  Keith’s mind catches onto something, like dead skin on silk.  The laugh.  It’s the same laugh.  The one from earlier this morning.

 

The exact same one. 

 

It sounds like a fucking recording.  Keith is glad his back is turned to Shiro, because he probably looks like a pale little bitch right now, over something he’s clearly paranoid about.  Shiro laughs all the time.  Of course it’s the same laugh.  That’s how people laugh.  Why the fuck is he still thinking about it?

 

They reach Shiro’s car, and Keith steps towards the trunk so he can throw the majority of his luggage into the back.  After a few moments of nothing being unlocked, Keith glances at Shiro.  He’s staring at his keys, then glancing at the car.  Back and forth.

 

“Y’all right there, champ?”  Keith, eyebrow raised, motions to the trunk lock.

 

Shiro’s subsequent nod is delayed.  He presses the trunk button on the keychain, and it pops open, and Keith tries not to think too hard about what just happened.  Shiro’s already sleep deprived.  And so is Keith, apparently, for trying to make Shiro out to be a serial killer in disguise or something.

 

But, when he seats himself on the passenger’s side, he finds Shiro glancing over the controls of the car like he’s never seen them before.  He picks up his phone and unlocks it.  Again, he stares.  With every agonizing second, Keith feels more uneasy, and a sense of claustrophobia rises with the heat inside the car.

 

“Dude.”  Keith leans forward.  “Do you need me to drive?”

 

Shiro looks over.  Suddenly, he’s alert, and typing in the college’s address to Google Maps.  He turns the key in the ignition, pushes down the e-brake, and they’re on their way.  “Just thinking.”

 

_What the fuck_.  “Yeah.  You said that last night.”

 

Shiro laughs.

 

And that’s when Keith knows he’s not in the car with his best friend.

 

* * *

 

 

They all eat lunch together on Wednesdays, during free hour.  It’s the only hour during the whole week when there are no classes.  It’s late summer, so the gang chooses their favorite food from the Commons, before heading to the picnic tables on the quad. 

 

But Keith can’t enjoy the nice weather.  He keeps noticing how close Shiro is getting to Lance, like he’s never learned the concept of personal space.  How he’s eyeing Hunk like he’s trying to read the front page of a newspaper.  Keith can’t explain any more than that.  But, he knows this isn’t Shiro.  It’s not. 

 

Which brings the real question: _where the fuck is Shiro_?

 

Lance tells a joke.  Shiro laughs.  Keith has to rise from the table and walk to the nearest trash can, where he pretends to scroll through his phone, like he got a text on the way there.  In reality, he can barely see straight.  That fucking _laugh_.  He’s had a few nightmares about it, this week.

 

It’s been three days, and nothing is the same.  At first, Shiro wasn’t answering texts.  Keith and Shiro text every day, nearly nonstop.  And, when Keith reminded him of this, the texts started coming in full-force.  Then, Shiro wasn’t meeting him in their usual places after class.  Keith would text him, and on Tuesday, _boom_.  There he was.  Ahead of schedule, every time.

 

Keith glances up from his phone towards the table, about fifty yards away.  Shiro is staring directly at him, unblinking.  Keith realizes a second later that he can also see Shiro’s back—like his head has turned around completely, and when his grin grows so wide that it appears as though it’s sliding off the sides of his face, Keith clenches his eyes shut.

 

Someone jostles into him, elbowing his stomach.  It forces Keith’s watering eyes open.  When he stares back at the table, he can see the back of Shiro’s head once more. 

 

But, even from this distance, he can hear Shiro laughing.

 

* * *

 

His last class on Friday ends just after noon.  He’s supposed to meet Shiro at his car, so they can make a quick escape for the campground.  When Keith told Pidge about this plan under his breath at lunch, they had whistled and cooed and told him to bring condoms.  Keith didn’t have the heart to tell them that he’s packing a knife, instead.

 

Shiro is leaning against the side of his car, looking at his phone, scratching the back of his neck.  For a wild, quick moment, Keith revels in the possibility that he’s just imagining shit.  Hallucinating—stress, a lack of sleep, or maybe he isn’t eating right.  Shiro is Shiro.  His best friend.  His crush.  The love of his life.

 

Then, Shiro looks up and smiles at him.  Keith washes that hope away with a swift rush of fear.  That’s not Shiro’s face.  He doesn’t understand how no one has noticed it, yet.  It looks like him, it sounds like him, but it’s _not him_.  And Keith can’t even name any specifics.  It’s like Shiro is a really well-rendered video game.  The kind where you have to pause and double-check that it isn’t a real person.

 

“Ready to go?” the imposter asks.

 

Keith nods.  It’s all he can really do.  He cautiously seats himself in the car after he stows his backpack in the trunk.  He half expects Shiro to purposefully crash the car, killing them both.  Keith senses the need to kill, but he doesn’t know why the man driving hasn’t acted on that, yet.  His knife, tucked away in his boot, burns against his shin.

 

Shiro asks him basic questions on the way to the campground, and Keith answers as best he can, because he’s itching to point out just how fucking _normal_ they are.  They’re questions about _school_ and _class_ and the real Shiro knows there is far more to Keith’s life.  Keith might be a little too serious about his grades, but he hates to talk about them.  The real Shiro knows that.

 

“We should fish tomorrow,” Shiro suggests.  “I brought rods, and all that.”

 

Keith fucking hates fishing.  “Yeah, sure.  That sounds good.”

 

The rest of the drive, and even the hike to their fire pit, continues in this fashion.  Shiro asks him continuously about school, like he doesn’t realize he’s asking the same question with different words.  He’s on autopilot, or something.  Keith’s heart is starting to pound, and it’s not because of exertion—it’s because he didn’t quite calculate that he could die out here.  Alone, without anyone, for miles. 

 

Keith wants to be relieved when they finally reach the camp site.  He sees the remnants of their fire, and Shiro places their gear next to it.  It’s dusk.  They need to get a fire started soon, or they’ll be stumbling around with flashlights.  Keith digs around in his bag for a grill lighter, and Shiro wordlessly gathers tinder and kindling.

 

Within minutes, their fire is going, and it’s perfect for them to start cooking their hot dogs over it.  But, just to test it, Keith doesn’t bring up dinner at all.  And Shiro doesn’t notice.  He doesn’t speak a word about how hungry he is, or how he hasn’t eaten all day, or how they should probably get something in their stomachs.

 

It’s not exactly damning evidence, but Keith is already convinced he’s dealing with...something.  He’s not sure what.  It’s definitely not human.

 

“You look like you wanna ask me something,” Shiro says, after a few moments of silence, while they’re seated by the fire.  On the very log where, Keith suspects, they met for the first time.  “Or, maybe I’m just crazy.”

 

“You’ve been acting weird.”  _Explain this, bitch._   “Like, really weird.  Ever since last weekend.”

 

Shiro’s brow furrows.  “I have?”

 

“Like, not yourself.  You’ve been talking like a different person.  And, on the way here, you asked me a ton of the same questions, over and over.”

 

Shiro’s expression goes somber, and he stares down at the fire.  Keith watches the flames dance in his eyes.  “I guess I just...had a really shitty nightmare, last weekend.  I’ve been trying to get over it, since then.  This is helping.”

 

_Bullshit.  Bullshit bullshit bullshit._

Keith nods, and then they’re silent again.  Keith feels the heat from the fire, but he also feels the heat coming from his left side, where Shiro is.  It’s an aching need in the form of a warm chill crawling over his body.  Nonchalantly, though his fingers are shaking, Keith reaches down to unsheathe the knife from his boot.  He hopes to God his voice doesn’t shake.

 

“I’m just gonna cut to the chase, I guess.”

 

Shiro glances between the knife and Keith’s eyes.  “The chase?”

 

Keith turns and keeps his demeanor even.  “What the fuck are you?”

 

Shiro’s breath catches.  Instantly, there’s confusion on his face, in the form of parted lips and innocent words.  “What are you talking about...?”

 

“Don’t play with me, motherfucker.”  Keith wants to stand, wants to hold his knife up to fake-Shiro’s throat.  But, he keeps as calm as he can.  “You’re not him.  You’re a goddamn idiot if you thought I wouldn’t notice.”

 

Their body positions are still that of two friends spending a night together by a campfire.  But, the air has changed, and the flames have sucked away the clean oxygen.  Shiro turns, stares at the embers, and the fire lowers by at least a foot.

 

_Fuck_.  Fuck, he’s in trouble.

 

“What gave me away?” Shiro asks.  He doesn’t look at Keith.

 

“Everything.”  Keith is shocked that his voice comes out confident.  “You forgot how to open the trunk of the car, and then suddenly, you remembered like nothing had happened.  All fucking week, you’ve done this thing—you forget something important, I remind you, and then it’s back to normal.  Instantly.”

 

The fire is extinguished completely.  Keith wants to breathe, but it’s nearly impossible when fear and _anger_ are constricting his chest cavities.  He can still see Shiro’s face in the moonlight, but there is something so horrifically wrong, that it finally forces Keith to his feet.

 

Shiro’s eyes are glowing.  Whites and all.  A bright, vibrant yellow that glows in the dark, like two lightning bugs suspended in the air.  Still sitting, Shiro stares up, and even in the low lighting, Keith can see that fucking smirk.  The same one he saw on the quad.  His stomach turns, and he readjusts his grip on his blade.

 

“You killed my best friend.”  It’s not a question.  He already knows.  He tried to deny it, again and again, in his head.  But, he can’t anymore.  Seeing this _thing_ is proving that.

 

“I _ate_ your best friend.” 

 

Not-Shiro is on his feet, now, and he appears taller than before.  The darkness is completely warping his features, probably making them more terrifying than they really are.  He even takes a few steps closer to Keith, who refuses to put his guard down.  Refuses to move.

 

Eventually, though, he can’t look, anymore.  His blood is cold.  He feels the terror dying.  Greif rises in his throat like bile.  He has to blink away tears.  _Shiro is gone.  Forever._ Finally, he turns his head and glares at the ground, like a child covering themselves with a blanket.

 

“Oh, _wait_ a minute,” the creature taunts.  Keith’s eyes are slammed shut, but he can tell the fake Shiro is inches away from his face.  “There’s another reason you’re so upset.”

 

Keith isn’t going to say anything to that, and he’s about to clench his teeth and swing his knife, even though he’d be stabbing his best friend’s face.  But, then, _pain_ explodes on his jugular, and Keith cries out, instinctively stumbling back.  It rips the thing’s teeth out of his skin, and when he slaps a hand up to the wound, he knows there’s a _chunk_ missing from his neck.

 

The blood cascades down his shirt.  _I ate your best friend_.  “What the fuck?!”

 

The creature scoffs.  “You’re in _love_ with him.  Of course you are.  Is that why you’re out here?  To avenge your fallen lover?”

 

Keith is shaking.  The dark blackness of blood on the creature’s chin is stark against pale skin.  “Jesus Christ.  What the fuck.”

 

“Kuro, actually.” The demon—Kuro—raises a hand to wipe Keith’s blood away.  He licks it off his fingers.  “You’re perceptive.  And fearless.  I like that.”

 

“You kind of gave yourself away with your fucking owl head thing.”

 

Kuro shrugs.  He starts to pace.  Keith doesn’t move.  “Sometimes, you can’t help it, you know?  I like scaring people.”

 

Keith is more pissed off than anything else, he realizes.  His mind spins—Shiro is dead, the real Shiro, but Shiro’s _in front of him_ and he’s so confused.  There’s a haze draped around him, now.  A thick fog of _reassurance._ Of comfort.  Keith knows Kuro is causing it.  “Wait.  What are you doing...?”

 

“I know why you’re out here, Keith,” Kuro chimes.  “You can tell yourself what you want to hear—that you were going to kill me, somehow.  But, I know better.  I know you just like seeing his face.”

 

“Stop messing with my head,” Keith demands roughly.  He feels dizzy, now.  He wants to run, attack, but he can’t move.

 

Kuro doesn’t stop talking.  He comes closer once more, and Keith doesn’t back away, but it’s not out of a need to appear fearless.  It’s because he wants it.  He wants Kuro to step closer.  To speak to him. 

 

“You’re not Shiro,” Keith whispers through gritted teeth.

 

“I’m the next best thing.”

 

A hand is caressing his cheek, now.  Warm.  Keith leans into it, and when his eyes open, he sees Shiro’s face.  Shiro’s worried eyes.  The creature has shifted, somehow, like it matched Keith’s memory of Shiro perfectly.  Keith realizes with a dull jolt that Kuro has to consume someone to gain memories—it’s how he knows Shiro so well.

 

“Keith, stay with me.”  Shiro’s voice—fuck, it’s so similar, Keith nearly bursts into tears.  His mind is too hazy to portray any emotion.  “I can keep you safe, out here.  I promise.”

 

“Stop it,” Keith says weakly, his voice cracking.

 

“Come with me,” Shiro pleads.  _No, Kuro.  It’s a demon.  Kuro._ “Keith, please.  It’s not safe for you here, and I can protect you.”

 

Keith has always wanted Shiro to look at him like this.  He’s already completely screwed, and in the hands of some kind of monster.  There’s no way around that.  And, he knows he’s being manipulated.  He doesn’t have a choice but to go with Kuro.  Somewhere.  Anywhere.  Keith nods, slowly, and Kuro smiles as softly as Shiro used to.

 

Keith drops his knife to the forest floor.

 

Keith’s world turns as Kuro picks him up, bridal style.  He has to lay his head on the creature’s shoulder—it feels like a bad high.  Confused, delirious, and craving comfort.

 

“If you stay with me, I’ll be yours,” Kuro tells him.  They’re moving through the woods, and wind rushes through Keith’s hair.  It’s too dark to see how fast they’re going, but he knows it’s at speeds that aren’t human.  “What do you have to go back to?  I know you hate school.  You don’t hate me.”

 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Keith bites out, but then something—something _amazing_ explodes in his head and he groans, exceptionally loudly.  His body is alight with electricity, and his clit throbs with need.  It fades quickly, but, fuck, it felt like the best orgasm he’s ever had.  “Wh-what the fuck.”

 

“I can make you feel that all the time,” Kuro whispers.  They’re slowing down.  Approaching something tall, dark.  “I can give you Shiro and everything you dream about.”

 

Somehow, Keith is standing.  It’s still too dark to see.  His eyes aren’t adjusting, and he can only make out Kuro’s glowing eyes.  Keith leans back, against what feels like rock—his mind supplies the word.  Cave.  They’re in a cave.  Keith starts to pant and Kuro keeps him pinned to the wall.

 

“Let me keep you,” Kuro purrs.  Hot breath brushes Keith’s neck, and it feels so fucking good.  The teeth that scrape his skin are sharp, dangerous, and Keith is more than well aware of how _wet_ he is.  “Do you want me to show you how good it can be?”

 

Keith hears himself breathing, “ _Yes_.  F-fuck.”

 

He feels Kuro grin against his neck, and suddenly, Keith is on _fire_.  It’s like he’s been given the strongest aphrodisiac, and it’s coursing through his veins, culminating between his thighs.  Gasping, he arches his back, crying out, and Kuro takes the opportunity to grab Keith’s hair.  He tugs, and Keith groans.

 

“Good?” he hears whispered into his ear.

 

“ _Stop,_ ” Keith moans, hands pressed against Kuro’s chest, and he can’t help but run his fingers down to the creature’s hips.  Keith didn’t catch when it happened, but Kuro is naked, and he has Shiro’s naked body pressed against him.  Keith is _dripping_.  “N-no, don’t—!”

 

Kuro growls.  It’s inhuman.  Animalistic.  Keith should be terrified, he should be screaming in fear, but he only cries out in ecstasy when Kuro grabs him by the hips and spins him to shove him chest-first into the rock.

 

Keith feels denim sliding down his legs, and even that rough sensation gives him chills.  The cold air of the night is unbearable, because Shiro— _Kuro_ —isn’t inside him.  Kuro’s chest isn’t against his back, anymore.  He feels hands spreading his legs, and then he feels _warm_ wetness between them.

 

“Fuck!” Keith shouts, and he almost comes, but the contact is short-lived.  “Fuck, _fuck_ , stop it!”

 

Something, some semblance of sanity, is stopping him from giving in completely.  He can’t help the way his body is reacting, can’t help the desperate whines, but he does his best to vocalize his discontent.  He doesn’t want this.  _He doesn’t want this_.

 

From behind him, between his legs, Kuro scoffs against the back of his thigh.  He shoves on the small of Keith’s back, forcing him to an angle that gives Kuro better access.  The creature spreads him apart, putting him on private display, and Keith sobs out of pleasure and discomfort.

 

“You’re so wet for me, though,” Kuro teases, and a finger rubs across his clit, and Keith’s mind slips.  “I’ve always wanted this, you know.  I thought about you all the time.  I thought about pulling you apart like this, until you dripped on the floor.”

 

Keith can’t get a word in.  In the next moment, Kuro’s tongue is _inside him_ , tasting him, sliding between his folds and fucking him.  Despite himself, Keith pushes his hips back until Kuro groans with satisfaction.  Fuck, why does this feel so good?  How can this monster make him feel so _good_?

 

“I don’t want to come,” Keith moans, and Kuro laughs.  “I don’t—you _can’t_.”

 

Then, the warmth is gone.  Keith nearly screams in frustration, but quickly and distantly reminds himself that he _wants_ to be free.  He wants to be clothed and left alone.  But, then, he distinctly feels the head of Kuro’s cock against his soaked cunt, and his fingers scrape against the stone.  His lip splits from how hard he bites down on it, trying to keep quiet.

 

“Don’t be quiet, baby,” Kuro tells him.  It sounds like Shiro.  Fuck, it sounds just like him, soft and beautiful and perfect.  “I wanna hear you.  I’ve wanted to hear you for so long, Keith.”

 

Keith gasps wetly.  “Shiro—!”

 

Then, Kuro is inside of him.  Keith is stretched to his limit, and the creature shoves hard enough to fill him completely.  It doesn’t hurt.  Keith’s mind nearly explodes with pleasure, and he’s coming, knees giving out.  The sounds he makes are that of surrender.  Kuro keeps him up by his thighs and thrusts into him hard, scraping Keith’s cheek against the rock.

 

“You’re so tight, baby,” Kuro murmurs, between slow and _hard_ thrusts.  “So wet for me.”

 

Keith doesn’t care.  He doesn’t care anymore.  He feels as though his orgasm took away any reserves he had about this situation.  Suddenly, he knows.  He knows this is where he’s supposed to be, and he knows he _needs_ Kuro— _Shiro_ —to come inside him.  Fill him up.  The idea that Shiro could make him pregnant floods his mind, and Keith feels his orgasm building strong in his stomach.  “Shiro—fuck, please.  _Please_ , harder.”

 

Shiro rams into him.  With each thrust, Keith feels the jagged stone cut into his skin.  Shiro bites and nips at his neck, and Keith feels _so fucking good_.  Why would he resist this?  Jesus Christ, what was he thinking?  He needs this.  He needs Shiro’s cock.  He’s a toy, a breeding tool, and he _loves_ it.

 

“So good,” Keith whimpers.  “Fuck, your cock is so good.  I love it.”

 

“Louder.”

 

“Shiro, please, I need your _cock_.”

 

“ _Louder_.”

 

Shiro, thick and throbbing inside of him, is all Keith needs.  This warmth, this all-consuming desire is all he’ll ever want, ever again.  He loves it.  He loves that Shiro wants him, wants to _use_ him like a toy.  Keith’s can’t help but smile, can’t help his eyes rolling back.  “ _Fuck_ me, your cock, I need your come, Shiro, _please_ , I need it!”

 

When Keith feels hot seed spilling inside of him, filling him to the brim, his mind goes blank.  He can’t believe he resisted _this_.  Hot come drips down his thighs, down his legs, and Shiro pulls out of him with a filthy sound.  He feels his back hitting soft fur, and he’s lying down, legs spread and bruised and covered in come.

 

It’s not _enough_.  Keith whines, and uses shaking fingers to spread himself, showing Shiro how much he’s dripping and how much more he needs.  “Please, more.”

 

Shiro bends down and kisses Keith’s forehead.  A hand smooths back his hair, and then, he’s covered with a fur blanket.  “Later.  If you promise to be good.  Do you promise to stay with me?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith exhales.   _Please, breed me, use me._ “Fuck, yes, please let me stay.”

 

“Good boy,” Shiro praises.  “I’m going to keep you here, okay?  And I can fill you up, every day.  How does that sound?”

 

Keith moans, nodding, lip caught between his teeth.

 

And Shiro laughs.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BY POPULAR DEMAND.

“I need more clothes.”

Kuro turns to stare.  During the high point of the day, when the sun is the brightest, it isn’t wise for the shapeshifter to venture from the cave.  He does, sometimes, but only when he hunts.  Contrary to popular belief, he says, he’s not the top of the food chain in this forest.  Keith has never tried to coax more information from him than that.

“I don’t see why you need them, anymore.”  Kuro shrugs his shoulders, humming.  “It’s not like you’re going to be out and about.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Keith seethes.  He’s curled up on a flat stone, far away from Kuro, with a fur pelt draped up to his hips.  “It gets cold.  And I feel weird without them.”

Seemingly annoyed with Keith’s petulant attitude, Kuro sighs dramatically, face turned upwards towards the roof of the cave.  It’s the best way to simulate rolling his eyes when he doesn’t have any irises, and instead, glowing gold abysses that Keith has grown used to.  “I can get them tonight, when I’m hunting.  Hunting for _you_ , by the way.  Anything else you want me to fetch you, your Majesty?”

Keith smirks, and props himself up on his elbow.  “Mm.  A silver dagger?”

Kuro growls.  “You’re overstaying your welcome, kitten.”

“So, just kill me, already.”

Keith has insisted, time and time again, that Kuro just rip him apart and get it over with.  He’s clearly tempted, considering the cryptid doesn’t seem opposed to gnawing on Keith’s skin on occasion.  But, Kuro reacts as he does after every suggestion.  His expression goes flat, then cold, then insulted, then _pained_ , before he looks at the ground beneath Keith’s rock perch.  “I’ve told you not to say that.”

And, there it is.  Keith’s only driving force, his only hope.  It’s about as much hope as he’s going to get, now that he’s a captured sex toy for a fabled woodland monster.  When the time is right, and Keith feels brave, he says something like _that_.  Suggests that Kuro do harm to him.  Suggests that Kuro only wants Keith around for sick pleasure.  Suggests that the creature is playing with his food.

Every time, there’s a flicker.  Keith noticed when the glamour faded for the first time, and he pathetically whimpered for Kuro to take him home.  For just a moment, there was _sympathy_ , and Kuro’s face _changed_.  Keith realized, then, that Kuro didn’t just absorb Shiro’s memories, or his appearance.

He also absorbed _Shiro_.

Keith has noticed, however, that shapeshifters are not always vicious monsters.  Right now, for instance, Kuro is attempting to braid a flower chain.  Keith’s eyes follow his expert hand movements, and the sight is so bizarre, paralleled with his situation.  Shiro’s body, doing something so benign, but when he glances up at Keith, his eyes glow yellow like a demon’s.

“What?” Kuro asks, and Keith didn’t realize that he’d been staring.

“Just interested,” Keith shrugs. 

He’s grown to have a semi-peaceful and casual relationship with Kuro.  He’s also pretty sure that’s what they call Stockholm Syndrome, though at this point, he can’t be bothered to care.  It’s obvious that Kuro won’t let him leave—and, the shapeshifter is stronger, faster, and all-around better than Keith could ever be.  There isn’t much use in running, as he had discovered one day by escaping into the woods while Kuro’s back was turned. 

It had been around three in the afternoon.  Keith had made a dash for it, even though his clothes were tattered and torn.  But, within minutes, Kuro had caught him—dragged him back to the cave, but he hadn’t been _angry_.  He had been scared.  Terrified.  That had been when he told Keith in a rushed, sharp tone that he was not the only dangerous creature in the woods.

Keith has seen things.  Kuro doesn’t really sleep, but he does like to curl up next to Keith protectively during the nights when he isn’t hunting.  For the first few days without glamour, Keith stayed awake until he passed out from exhaustion.  Sometimes, while gazing out of the mouth of the cave, he’d see...movements.  Black shadows, glimpses of animals he hadn’t recognized. 

Once, he had seen what looked like ram horns reflecting the moonlight, directly atop a pair of glowing white eyes.  Keith thought it had been a trick of the light.  But, then, Kuro had growled from behind him, an intimidating sound that had radiated through Keith’s entire body.  Though, he hadn’t been afraid.  And not because of glamour.  Kuro’s growl had felt safe.  Comforting.

The thing had opened a wide, jagged, black mouth.  When it stood, its body had been lanky, bony, and bent at angles Keith’s mind couldn’t keep up with.  The inhuman, guttural shriek it had unleashed had made Keith’s ears ring, forcing tears of fear into his eyes as he jumped.

That had been the first time Kuro possessively and _lovingly_ kissed Keith’s neck.

“Are you sure I’m safe, tonight?” Keith asks, rolling onto his back as he stares at the roof.  “Be honest.”

Kuro scoffs.  He holds his creation in front of him to inspect his work.  “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Keith, despite himself, despite _everything_ , smiles gently.  “If you come back and I’m ripped to shreds, it’s your fault.”

“Nothing will come in here while I’m not around,” Kuro says confidently.  “For the most part, everything stays in its territory.”

“...For the _most part_?”

“Stop _worrying_ , kitten.”  Then, Kuro stands, moving to Keith with a sense of confidence only Kuro can have.  Instead of flinching like he used to, Keith stretches to put his arms behind his head.  “You need food.  There’s no way in hell you’re hunting with me.  So, you stay.”

Kuro kneels by the rock perch and ties his flower chain into a ring, before placing it atop Keith’s head.  The shapeshifter bites his lip and makes a mocking humming noise.  Keith is probably supposed to be annoyed, but he’s finding that more difficult, day-by-day.

“You’re _my_ mate,” he says.  “They know that.”

Keith used to hate Kuro claiming him.  These days, he feigns disapproval and looks the other way.

* * *

 

Kuro leaves an hour after sunset, and kisses Keith with all the passion of a lover.  He promises to return quickly, to bring Keith food and extra clothing.  Keith’s stomach rumbles, and Kuro fondly runs his fingers through Keith’s hair.  “I’ll find you dinner, baby.”

Keith doesn’t want to admit how vulnerable he feels when his captor, a literal manifestation of deceit and darkness, leaves the cave.

He curls himself as much as possible under the fur pelt.  It’s not uncomfortable, really.  Kuro doesn’t want to make him _miserable_.  That’s what it means, to be Kuro’s _mate_.  Keith was originally meant to be prey, stupid enough to be lured into the shapeshifter’s trap.  But, then, Kuro decided he quite liked having someone to come home to.

Keith isn’t sure why he’s keeping Shiro’s form.  Perhaps it’s to make sure that Keith isn’t terrified.  Kuro seems to like the arrangement much more when Keith (sort of) willingly agrees to sex.  Although, Keith always shouts for _Shiro_ when he comes.

Glamour hadn’t been used on him for very long, aside from sex.  Kuro has magic, however faint, that he can use to warp and manipulate reality.  With it, he can twist Keith’s mind—it’s how he convinced Keith to stay in the first place.  He only feels gentle lulls of glamour, now, when Kuro thinks Keith needs to sleep.  Or, of course, during sex.

He wishes he were asleep, right now.  Kuro’s promises of safety mean jack _shit_ without a fucking door.  The mouth of the cave is probably fifteen feet across and eight feet high.  Literally anything could come waltzing in, kill Keith, and leave hours before Kuro returns.

Keith starts to drift off about an hour into Kuro’s absence.  He’s awoken by the sound of crunching leaves.  Keith cracks his eyes open, expecting Kuro to be there with a bag slung over his shoulder.  But it’s not Kuro.  And Keith is a fucking _idiot_ for gasping.

It’s the creature from a few weeks ago.  Keith can see the horns and bright eyes peeking at him from behind the cave entrance.  He stops breathing.  _Fuck_.  Fuck, fuck.

Kuro said nothing would come into the cave, and yet, the creature’s spindly hand curls around the rock.  A broken, bent and unnatural leg stretches almost impossibly far into the cave, closer to Keith.  And that’s when Keith turns his fear into action.

He doesn’t have a weapon.  But, he’s close enough to the pile of firewood to grab a decent-sized branch.  In one fluid motion, he’s brandishing it, standing in nothing but his t-shirt and boxer shorts.  Keith grits his teeth, and he’s _shaking_ like all hell, but he’s not about to fucking die without trying to defend himself.

The creature stops.  It’s as still as a tree.  Keith can see that its facial features are a cross between a ram’s and a human’s.  Their standoff lasts but a few seconds.

“Back the _fuck_ up, bitch.”

It _screams_ , loud enough for Keith to cry out in pain, because his eardrums feel like they’ve imploded from the sound.  It crouches down on all fours like some kind of _Silent Hill_ bullshit, and with terrifying speed, starts crawling towards Keith.

Before he can make his first swing, however, something big and _dark_ crashes into the side of the creature.

Keith is slammed against the cave wall, and he drops his branch as he falls to the ground.  He watches as the shape of a _huge_ black wolf growls and snaps and swipes at the intruder.  Keith, trembling, tries his best to keep up with the action.  The horned creature shudders and shakes, and gives another cry before retreating, dashing into the forest with speeds Keith can’t comprehend.

Then, it’s quiet.

Keith is staring, frozen, out of the mouth of the cave, and so he misses the wolf’s first phase of transformation.  Within a few seconds, Kuro’s naked form is standing in its place, with squared shoulders facing the woods with fierce determination.

He turns, golden eyes focusing on Keith.

“You fucking said nothing would come in here,” Keith rushes out, completely glossing over the fact that Kuro was just in the form of a wolf, because holy shit, Keith had no idea he could do that.  “You said—Kuro, I told you not to leave.”

Kuro is by his side in the next moment.  Keith, without thinking, grabs him and pulls him close.  His breathing is rapid and short, and his tears are hot as they press against Kuro’s skin.  He didn’t think he could shake this hard.

“I’m sorry,” he hears, choked and shocked.  “I’m—I didn’t know it would try that.”

Keith feels strong arms wrap around his torso.  Then, he’s being lifted, and placed onto the rock perch.  Kuro kneels between Keith’s knees, and pushes sweaty bangs away from Keith’s eyes.  Keith feels a thumb wipe a tear from his cheek.

“What the fuck was that thing?” Keith whispers.  “It—it was the same thing from before.”

“A wendigo,” Kuro answers, softly, though his answer is anything but.  “It’s never breached my territory like that.  I didn’t think about—you’re human.  That’s why.”

Wendigo.  Keith has heard about them from movies and television shows.  Some kind of legend, regarding a terrifying, cannibalistic, twisted human.  They’re dark people, who consume the flesh of men, which transforms them into... _that_.  Grainy, shitty videos on YouTube don’t do the thing any justice.

Before Keith can ask another question, Kuro is rising to his feet.  There’s a bag that has been dropped near the mouth of the cave.  Kuro glances at the fire ring, and flames ignite, instantly warming Keith’s bones and flooding their dwelling with a calming glow.  He hadn’t realized how _dark_ the night had been until this moment.

“I brought you clothes,” Kuro says, holding up the duffle bag.  He drops it at Keith’s feet and kneels to rummage around inside of it.  “I didn’t have time to hunt—I felt the energy change, here.  It’s lucky I was already in the woods.”

“Energy...?” Keith questions, while Kuro hands him a long sleeved sweater.  Keith takes it with numb hands.  “You knew it was here?”

“I marked it,” Kuro says.  He left wearing a shirt and jeans, but they must have been discarded during his...wolf escapade.  “If anything I don’t want is in this cave, I’ll know.”

Keith nods.  Instead of slipping the sweater over his head, he sets it to the side and crosses his arms to remove his shirt.  Kuro looks helplessly confused, until Keith starts stripping out of his briefs.  To Keith’s surprise, Kuro stops him from doing so; his hand is warm.  Strong.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he says, as though that’s obvious.  As though they don’t have sex every night.

“Why not?” Keith whispers.

Kuro’s expression changes.  He glances towards where their skin meets, where his entire hand encircles Keith’s wrist.  He’s warring with himself.  Keith sees turmoil lacing Kuro’s features, and watches in awe when Kuro closes his eyes tightly to collect himself.

Shiro.  _Shiro, come on_.

But, when Kuro raises his eyes, they’re bright gold and endless.

“I’m just not,” he finally says, as if that answers _anything_.  “Lie down.”

Keith does as he’s told, knowing the potential consequences.  After a bit of rustling and shifting, Kuro slips under the fur pelt behind Keith, pulling the human’s back to his chest.  Keith, despite himself, shimmies further into the embrace, and pulls the fur up to the bottom of his nose.

Kuro’s breathing is soft and slow.  Rhythmic and even.  Keith allows the flickering of the fire to lull him to sleep.

* * *

 

When he wakes up, the sun has risen, and Keith is fucking _starving_.

Kuro doesn’t notice, at first, when Keith rises and stretches his sore limbs.  He’s getting used to the _rock_ instead of a real bed, but that doesn’t come without a few tender spots in the morning.  Only when Keith’s stomach rumbles does Kuro look up from staring into the palm of his hand.  Keith only raises an eyebrow at him.

“Palm reading?” Keith asks, reaching for his sweater and a pair of shorts.  “A shapeshifter _and_ a psychic?”

Kuro growls.  “Mind your own business.”

Okay, _that_ doesn’t sound like the Kuro who came to Keith’s rescue last night.  Keith doesn’t allow his disappointment to show.  Instead, he ambles dangerously close to the opening of the cave until Kuro glares at him.  Now, the demon is dressed, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that says _The Strokes_.  Keith tilts his head, corner of his mouth quirked.

“Did you go to Shiro’s apartment, too?” Keith asks, amused.

Kuro groans and rises to his feet.  He’s actually wearing a pair of Converse, and Keith covers the spike of hope sticking out of his chest with stifled laughter.  “You two lived down the street from one another.  Not exactly difficult.  I only had to bypass, like, three cops.”

Right.  Cops.  They were supposed to return from their camping trip a few days ago, actually.  Keith and Shiro are missing persons.  No one would particularly _miss_ Keith, really.  He lives alone in a shitty one bedroom apartment—the scholarship he has pays for his living expenses.  But, Shiro?  Shiro has family.  A mother, a father, a little sister.  _Friends_.

Keith bites his lip.  Lance, Hunk, Pidge...he might not ever see them again.  He feels the threat of tears poking at the back of his throat.

Thankfully, Kuro distracts him before the waterworks can start.  “You interested in washing off?  I know a place.  A waterfall.”

Placing a hand on his hip, Keith blinks.  “I mean, yeah.  That’s...generous of you.”

“I have to hunt, since I couldn’t last night,” Kuro says, immediately countering the idea that he’d ever do something so generous for Keith if it weren’t absolutely necessary.  The only reason Keith has clothes right now is because Kuro wanted some, too.  And, maybe, a touch of Shiro allowed for that decision to be made.  “The place I’m taking you to is safe for you until I get back.”

“Glad we’re back to normal,” Keith quips with a grim smirk.  “I was starting to think you’d gone soft, last night.  Double entendre intended.”

The next moment, an invisible steel cable cuts into the skin of Keith’s back, yanking him forward until Kuro can pull him into a searing kiss.  Involuntarily, in that _instant_ , Keith’s mind cracks and explodes with pleasure as he comes from the force of Kuro’s glamour.  He gasps for breath and his knees buckle— _shit_ , that’s so fucking _good_.

“Anyway,” Kuro continues in a faux cheerful manner.  “Let’s head out.”

Keith is still shivering and shaking, thighs _wet_ , as Kuro leads him away from the cave.

* * *

 

It’s the first time they’ve been in the woods together since Kuro ran after him.  Keith is walking freely, but he feels like there is a guard looming over his shoulder, ensuring that he continues forward in Kuro’s footsteps.  The _threat_ of Kuro using his glamour to control Keith’s body is more terrifying than experiencing it.  He’d rather not take the risk of veering off course.

After what must be an hour, Kuro says they’re close, and then immediately complains about how this would be _so much faster_ if Keith could shapeshift.  Kuro goes on to suggest that maybe, on the way back, he can transform into a wolf so Keith can ride on his back.  At the image, Keith rolls his eyes.

“Okay, _Twilight_.”  Not that Kuro’s wolf form is a werewolf—or, as far as he knows.  Which isn’t much.  “Next, you’re gonna tell me you’re one hundred years old.”

Kuro gives a glance at Keith over his shoulder and continues walking.

“What.  What?  Wait, hold on!”  Keith jogs to catch up, until he’s keeping pace with Kuro.  “Seriously?  I thought that age-old mythical creature thing was just for movies and shit.”

Kuro sighs.  “Humans are incredibly ignorant and small-minded.  Pass.  Next question.”

“So, like, over one hundred?” Keith asks, choosing to bypass that statement.  “Two hundred?  Come on.  If you’re gonna keep me captive, I should be able to know this _basic_ knowledge.”

“Well, right now, I’m Shiro,” Kuro says.  He’s clearly pissed.  Keith wonders how far he can push this before glamour keeps his mouth shut.  “So, I’m twenty-one!  _Next question_!”

Keith files this topic away in his mind as a sensitive subject.  It’s interesting, to him, just how many of these Kuro has.  Kuro isn’t _just_ a murderous and ravenous sexual shapeshifting demon.  He has a life.  A past life.  Perhaps even _hundreds_ of years of existence before he ever met Keith.  So, how did he get _here_?  In a cave, fooling around with a college sophomore?

Keith then hears the sound of running and tumbling water.  Over Kuro’s shoulder, he can see the sunlight reflecting off a large pool, surrounded by ferns and vegetation.  And, then, he gets a closer look.

The place is _gorgeous_.  Above them, water cascades from at least twenty feet in the air.  Underneath is a quiet cove, lit by the sparkling pool rippling from the waterfall.  The pool ends, leading to another drop-off.  And, then, the view travels down the side of a mountain, before the landscape opens up to a rolling valley.  

“Holy shit,” Keith breathes.  Timidly, he takes a few steps forward—but, abruptly, Kuro slams a hand into his chest to push him back.

Keith feels the incessant tug of glamour in his mind, and it’s as though he’s waking from a dream.  Another view of reality slowly seeps into his vision.  As the glamour slips away into nothing, Keith can see a hut across the water.  Keith realizes it’s built into the side of a huge tree trunk, with vines curling down the sides.  He can’t see inside the windows, beyond the dim light that shines through them.  Around the door, there are symbols scratched into the wood, and they’re _glowing_ a light lavender. 

“Shielded by glamour,” Kuro explains.  “Magic stuff.  Kind of pedantic.”

“Making shit appear out of thin air isn’t _pedantic_ ,” Keith chides, still fucking breathless from seeing a random ass house pop up out of nowhere.  “Is that a witch hut, or something?”

Then, a new voice.  “Not exactly.”

It comes from behind them—Keith _jumps_ , flinching, and his first thought is that something like the wendigo has come to kill them both.  But, when he whirls around, he sees the exact opposite of the horned hell spawn he ran into last night.

It’s a woman.  A tall, white-haired, dark-skinned, beautiful woman.  Her periwinkle dress is gossamer and flows around her legs like dust in the wind.  Her hair perfectly frames her pixie face, and Keith is reeling, because she looks human but she’s _not_.  He knows she’s not.  There’s something off about her, too, just like Kuro.  Like CGI that is just short of being entirely convincing.

“Who’s this?” the woman asks Kuro, in a tone that suggests she is _not_ impressed.  “And who are you _wearing_?”

“His name is Keith,” Kuro says, pointedly ignoring the other question.  “He’s human.  Listen, do you think you could keep an eye on him for a little bit?”

The woman’s eyebrows raise.  Her head cocks to the side.  She blinks, incredulous.  “You want _me_ to babysit a _human_.”

Keith isn’t sure if he should take offense to that or not.

Again, Kuro avoids her words.  “Keith, this is Allura.  She can protect you better than I can.  Her glamour is far more powerful.”

“I appreciate the compliment, Kuro.”  She clearly does not.  “But, again, _why_ are you entrusting me with such a valuable subject?  Why haven’t you already consumed him?”

It’s subtle as all hell, but Kuro’s fingers twitch.  Keith bites his cheek.  “He’s my mate.  I have to hunt for him.  I can’t leave him alone; a wendigo came for him, last night.”

Allura’s lips part in shock, and she genuinely looks speechless.  “Mate...?”

“Eventually,” Kuro continues quickly.  “Not quite yet.  He’s getting there.”

“Are you just assuming I know what that means?” Keith asks.  He is ignored.

Something in Allura’s posture changes, and she folds her delicate hands in front of her, pursing her lips.  From this distance, Keith can _barely_ make out that she has flecks of pink scattered throughout her blue irises.  “Alright.  I can keep him inside, if you’d like.”

“He’s going to bathe,” Kuro amends.  “I won’t be long.”

Allura nods.  Keith notes just how _quickly_ she changed her mind on the subject, the second Kuro mentioned something about a mate.  Kuro turns to him, looks him up and down as if he’s surveying for a security deposit, and heads off into the woods, faster than Keith can keep track.

Awkwardly, Keith glances between Allura and the pool.  She doesn’t quite seem to understand the silence.  They stare at one another.  It’s fucking uncomfortable.  Her gaze is about as piercing as a hypodermic needle, attempting to inject him with a _weird_ kind of glamour he is absolutely not used to.  Silently, Keith moves towards the water and starts to strip.

At this point, he’s used to being naked in the woods.  It’s not a big deal, anymore, now that Kuro keeps him that way the majority of the time.  Only a small part of his mind snags on the fact that Allura can see his body, every part of it, as he wades into the water.  The other part tries its best to focus on how _warm_ the water is, and how fantastic it feels against his skin.

Fuck, he misses showers.  This is magical and beautiful, and it’s a pretty wild experience to be waist-deep in crystal clear water while a gentle waterfall runs down his body.  But, he can’t deny how much he wants to curl up at the bottom of his bathtub and allow hot, burning water to pound at his spine. 

“What does he mean when he says I’m his mate?” Keith asks.  Allura is making herself comfortable on a boulder that juts out over the water.  She looks like a mythical goddess.

“I think it’s best for him to explain that to you,” she answers sheepishly.  “I’m not entirely sure on how it works, for him.”

Well, okay, then.  Keith rolls his eyes—he’s getting a lot of shitty answers, today.  He guesses that’s the life of a captive.  “So, then, what are you?  Are you a shapeshifter, too?”

Allura blanches, and swallows hard, and she almost looks angry at the mere suggestion.  “No.  I’m the Princess of Altea.”

Keith raises an eyebrow and pauses scrubbing his hair.  “Say again?”

“Alteans,” she clarifies.  “We’re a prestigious race of Fae.  Altea is our world, and our civilization.  We use very powerful magic to conceal it from human eyes.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see your house,” Keith reasons, nodding at the structure.  It looks a bit like it should be on a Disney _Tinkerbell_ amusement park ride.  “Glamour, right?  Kuro uses that on me.”

Confusion and concern flash across Allura’s face.  “He does...?  I—yes, we use glamour to manipulate the appearance of reality.  It protects us.  Any time we’ve tried to lower the intensity of the magic, we’ve...been attacked and hunted.”

Keith hums.  “Definitely sounds like human behavior, that’s for sure.”

“He shouldn’t be using it on his mate,” Allura mutters, and Keith can barely hear her over the water.

“I told you, I don’t know what the _fuck_ he means by that,” Keith tells her.  “He, uh.  He...killed someone I really cared about.  And when I tried to dig too deep, he sort of dragged me into the woods with him, I guess.”

“That _insufferable_ bastard,” Allura spits.  “Oh, Keith.  Kuro isn’t evil.  Of course, you know everyone has to _eat_ , but he—ugh.  He is still clinging onto what that disgusting witch did to him.  I suppose it’s his instinct to claim and conquer.”

Keith is satisfied with his makeshift shower, and wades towards the edge of the pool.  He’s dripping, and sighs at his clothes, knowing this is going to be really fucking uncomfortable.  But, Allura waves her hand, and Keith feels a rush of hot wind as he is dried off completely.

“Th-thanks.”  That’s...handy, he supposes?  “What witch?”

Allura crosses her legs and leans forward, fingers toying with the fabric of her dress.  “Her name is Haggar.  She’s with the Galra—a race of very dark Fae, who aim to destroy Altea.  That’s the short version, anyway.”

Keith pops his head out of his sweater and gives her a confused expression.  “What exactly did she do to him?”

Allura smiles, restrained, and wrings out her hands.  “It’s best I don’t tell you much about that, either, Keith.  It’s not my story to tell.  Just know that...well, if Kuro seems evil, it’s because they _made_ him that way.”

“Cool motive, still murder,” Keith mutters.

Allura seems distant.  Her eyes glaze over, like she’s thinking about something serious and tragic.  Keith had no idea that Kuro could have ever suffered—he seems so confident, so arrogant.  It’s difficult to imagine a monster like that in serious pain.  It only makes Keith more darkly intrigued by Kuro, which is _dangerous_ , because he knows it’s creating an attachment.

He has to remind himself.  Kuro killed Shiro.  Kidnapped Keith.  Dragged him away, claimed him, and won’t let him leave.  He repeats it like a mantra in his head.

“Glamour is just magic, right?” Keith asks, pointedly changing the subject.  “I’m assuming by Fae, you mean fairies.  I always thought they were...smaller.”

Allura’s expression lights up at the prospect of talking about something other than Kuro’s misfortune.  “We can do a lot of things.  Though, I can’t shapeshift.  That’s not my area.  Generally, it’s considered...poor form, no pun intended.”

What the fuck does that mean?  “Poor form?  Like, dark magic, or whatever?”

“Not necessarily.  That’s where the Galra specialize—dark magic doesn’t have to be _evil_ , or a bad thing.  But, there are taboos.  There are very negative associations that come with shapeshifting.”

The Galra.  Keith pictures them as all of what Allura is not.  It terrifies him, a little, to imagine that.  Allura is already slightly off-putting, though she’s definitely the Good Fairy of the East.  Keith can trust her.  He thinks.

“They aren’t...trustworthy,” she continues.  “They used to be.  In fact, their previous King, Zarkon, used to be quite tolerable.  His son and I were meant to be wed, to keep the union of our kingdoms.  But, then, Zarkon wandered too far into darkness.”

“That’s a bit _Lord of the Rings_ , I’ll be honest.”  God.  Fairies.  What the fuck, man.  “There’s other shit out here, too, though.  Like wendigos.  Fucking terrifying.”

“Haggar—I mentioned her, earlier—she does love to experiment.  What you see in the woods is a result of that.  Humans can derive legends, but they’ve been her doing for centuries.  And, before her were generations who did the same thing.”

Ah.  That explains the wild differences in what he’s seen, and why he’s never seen more than one of anything.  That thing last night—he’s pretty relieved that nothing in nature could create something like that.  Though, the bitch should stop messing around.  Christ.

“The Galra are not ones to be reckoned with, Keith,” she reminds him, turning his head with his chin.  He freezes, surprised by the contact.  “Don’t go looking for them.”

“Why the hell would I?”

Before she can answer, there’s the sound of cracking branches behind them, and Kuro appears.  He’s got a dead rabbit, held by its back legs.  There’s no blood.  Allura looks as though she’s been caught looking at Christmas presents.  Kuro glances between them, once, twice, and then asks, “Ready to go?”

Instinctively, Keith rises to his feet.  “Just waiting on you.”

Kuro raises his chin to say something like _you’re damn right_.  Then, he looks towards Allura.  “Can you protect my cave?”

She rolls her eyes.  “Only for Keith, because I don’t trust you to defend him.”

“Hey, I protect my merchandise.”

Keith reaches over to shove Kuro’s shoulder as Allura stands.  Keith _moans_ pathetically when it feels like Kuro’s tongue is between his legs, soaking him.  God fucking damn it.  Allura raises an eyebrow, before she realizes what’s just happened, and sighs dramatically.

Red faced, Keith follows the both of them through the forest.

* * *

 

Keith does not get to ride on Kuro’s wolf back.  Allura won’t shapeshift, though Kuro repeatedly insists she has the ability to turn into a fucking dragon if she really wants to.  Kuro grabs Keith’s waist, pulls him close, and mutters, “Later, then, baby.”

Kuro doesn’t step into the cave right away.  He glares pointedly at Allura, folding his arms.  “I don’t trust you not to kill me.”

“I would have done that already if I wanted to,” she shoots back.  “Keith, sweetie, go inside.”

She doesn’t use glamour on him to force him, and Keith’s opinion of her skyrockets.  Once he’s inside, he turns, only to catch a flash of a periwinkle lightning bolt across the front of a cave.  He jumps and throws his hands up.  “What the fuck!”

Allura’s hands are raised, glowing the same color, and she looks concentrated.  Her eyelids flutter.  After about thirty seconds of Keith standing, tense and attentive, she finally backs away.  And, as it appears is a common theme, she glowers at Kuro.

“You didn’t do wyverns,” Kuro comments.

“I’m not protecting you from _wyverns_ , Kuro, _please_.”  She starts to storm away, but in the last moment, she gives Keith a warm smile.  “If he does anything to hurt you, call out for me.  I’ll hear you.”

Then, in a flash of light, she’s gone.

“She’s so fucking annoying,” Kuro mutters, and he finally steps inside—blue light shimmers around him, like he’s entering a force field.  “Sorry you had to hang around her for so long.”

“I liked her,” Keith admits.  “She told me a lot of stuff.  About glamour and the Fae and all that.  And the Galra.”

Kuro’s shoulders go tense, and he _stops_ , back turned to Keith as he drops the dead rabbit by the fire.  For a moment, he thinks Kuro is about to explode and scream at Keith for daring to dig so far.  But, after a few seconds of dead silence, Shiro turns around and his face is blank.  He places wood in the fireplace and lights it with his mind.

“I don’t think you’ve had rabbit yet,” he comments lightly.

Keith doesn’t push it.

Kuro cooks for him, even when Keith insists he can do it on his own.  It’s pretty rare when Keith finally starts to eat.  He guesses that’s some residual instinct, because Kuro only eats raw—a fact which always makes Keith shiver.  Kuro takes Keith’s leftover bones and starts to build a tiny structure.

“You know that’s creepy as hell, right?” Keith asks, mouth partially full.

Kuro hums.  “Creepier if I tell you I do this with _my_ food, sometimes.”

“Fuck, dude.”  Keith is done.  He sets down his rabbit leg and stands, because being around Kuro makes him feel like ants are crawling under his skin, sometimes.  It’s easy to fall into the illusion that Kuro is a normal person, until he says something so entirely monstrous. 

Grinning, Kuro hops up and pins Keith to the wall with enthusiasm—it smacks Keith’s head into the rock, and he groans loudly.  “What was that?  You wanted to fuck?”

“I mean, that’s certainly an interpretation,” Keith muses, and _yelps_ when Kuro scoops him up and carries him to the fur bed.  Kuro knows that Keith never _wants_ to fuck.  Not really.  Keith waits for glamour to cloud his mind, just as it does every time.

But, this time, Keith’s perception remains clear.

Kuro is sliding Keith’s shorts down his smooth thighs.  Keith doesn’t stop him.  He’s too confused; perhaps Kuro forgot?  Keith usually feels the pull of glamour at least ten minutes before Kuro intends to do anything at all to his body.  Now, though?  Kuro didn’t even try.

“You want this, don’t you?” Kuro taunts.  There’s something in his voice that implies he’s _waiting_ for Keith to push him away.  “You want me to fuck you.  Nice and hard and _deep_ , right?”

Keith shivers, and he hates himself for it.  Kuro is already between his legs, spreading apart Keith’s thighs, and though Keith’s mind is blurred, it’s not because of magic.  “N-no.”

“I can tell you want to beg for it, kitten,” Kuro purrs.  He kisses the skin under Keith’s stomach, trailing a wet, hot line down to Keith’s now-aching clit.  “Come on.  I won’t tell anyone.   I want to hear you _beg_.”

He can feel Kuro’s hot breath against his wet hole.  It feels so _good_.  Any moment now, he’ll tell Kuro to stop.  Any moment, and Kuro will use glamour to force him into submission.  At the very thought, Keith whimpers, and Kuro laughs darkly, hands forcing Keith’s thighs even further apart.

“I wish you could see how _wet_ you are,” Kuro moans.  He reaches for Keith’s hand, and gently brushes Keith’s fingers over his slick.  Keith gasps—oh, fuck, he’s _dripping_.  Soaked, without glamour even being a factor.  “Feel that, baby?  You _love_ the thought of me pounding this little, tight pussy, don’t you?”

Keith slaps his other hand over his mouth to stop his moan.  It still vibrates in his chest, and Keith scolds himself for being so fucking obvious.  _Yes_ , he wants Kuro to fuck him, already.  He needs _something_ inside him, and he doesn’t care what it is.  A tongue, fingers, a _cock_.  It doesn’t matter.  Keith is _burning_.

“Mm, you want me to fuck you so hard,” Kuro continues.  His tongue flicks over Keith’s labia, and Keith nearly shouts.  God, he’s so sensitive, and it’s just _him_.  No magic.  Arousal is scorching hot in his stomach and it’s all _him_.  “Just ask me, kitten.  Tell me what you want.”

Keith groans in frustration.  “Fucking _do_ it.”

“What was that?” Kuro asks.  Keith feels Kuro’s breath hot, hot, _hot_ against his wetness.  “Use your words.”

“I want it,” Keith breathes.  God, whatever— _whatever_ , as long as Kuro _fucks_ him.  “Please, fuck, I—I want it.  Fuck me.”

At that, Kuro fucks into Keith with his tongue.  The warmth of it has Keith’s back arching, but Kuro keeps him spread wide with his thumbs.  He pushes deeper, deeper.  Keith thought it was _impossible_ for him to go this _deep_.  Kuro’s tongue curves, and catches the exact spot inside of Keith that makes him buck into Kuro’s face.

“You don’t need my help,” Kuro taunts, circling Keith’s clit with a gentle touch of his finger.  “You want this all by yourself.  Look at you—my little slut, so fucking desperate for cock, aren’t you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith gasps.  “Fuck, I— _please_.”

Two fingers plunge inside of him without preamble.  Keith’s mind goes blank.  Having something hard and rigid inside of him is so _good_.  Better than _anything_ he’s felt while glamour was affecting him.  This time, it’s raw and real and visceral. 

“You sound like such a _whore_.”  Kuro flicks his tongue across Keith’s clit as he fucks him harder.  “I could fuck you anywhere, and you’d love it, wouldn’t you?  If I smashed your wet cunt to pieces in front of everything in these woods.  They’d all see you _taking_ it, kitten.  Bent over like a dog and begging for come.”

Keith imagines it.  He doesn’t know what else is in these woods, but anything with a cock could ram into him, right now, and he’d _love_ it.  How much could he take?  How many?  How much of a _whore_ is he, really?

“Make me come,” Keith whimpers.  “Kuro, I need it, let me _come_.”

Keith quivers, putting his body on display as Kuro dives in, not holding back as his tongue and fingers get to work.  Keith takes _four_ fingers when he comes, and Kuro forces his legs open, muttering about what a dirty boy he is for being on display.

“Kuro!  Shit!”

It seems to keep _going_.  He’s shaking and begging nonsensically, until reality sinks in.  His vision returns, and he’s _throbbing_.  Kuro smirks, lips sparkling from Keith’s slick.

Keith’s orgasm fades with a bittersweet realization.

He didn’t say Shiro’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dude i was SO blown away by the support for this fic omg? it was supposed to be a oneshot but LOOK WHAT YOU DID.
> 
> hmu on twit @hitchups!! i love hearing from you guys!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sheith month!!!!!!!

Glamour feels itchy.  Itchy and sleepy.  There’s no better way to describe it, especially when there are so many different _kinds_ of glamour.  Kuro’s is poisonous, strong, and gripping.  It blurs and chokes and takes.  Allura’s, however, is calming in an unnerving kind of way.  Like the feeling of being in an ambulance.  Safe and secure, but only to an extent.

Thus far, Keith has felt two different types of glamour and both of them have felt uncomfortable, even when they were not causing uncomfortable situations.  _Unsettling_ is a good word for the way he feels around the magic.  Keith has never experienced true calm when he’s under its control.  He’s never experienced _lucidity_ , mixed with the stillness of the ocean in the early morning.

That’s how he knows something is wrong when he opens his eyes.

Kuro is already standing, on high alert.  Keith pushes himself up onto one elbow, and the darkness of the night is thick.  Quickly, Kuro lights the fire, but it does nothing to take away the feeling of silence in his chest.  For a few moments, he expects there to be a creature that will wander by their cave, attempt to get past the protection spells, before giving up and scampering off into the woods.  It’s happened once or twice, so far, in the single night the spells have been etched into the rock.

But Kuro snaps into action.  He grabs Keith by the shoulders and pushes him behind the rock perch.  His expression is wild, frantic.  “Stay quiet.  _Don’t move_.”

Keith knows better than to fight with him, especially after seeing Kuro’s face.  He keeps his eyes shut out of instinct, heart pounding, because if Kuro is afraid of something it must be _really_ terrifying.  Out of everything he’s seen so far, Kuro has been strong enough to handle it.  With Kuro around, Keith feels protected, as fucked up as that might be.  So, Keith tries not to breathe so hard, and covers his mouth and nose with his hand, attempting to muffle the sound.

What he hears is not something he was expecting.  The glamour in the cave changes drastically, like the pressure in a plane as it rises, and Keith hears a voice.  An alluring, soft, elegant _voice_.

“I’ve heard you have a mate.”

It’s a man.  Keith’s chest tightens.  If he can speak, he’s probably Fae, and if Kuro’s afraid of him, Keith would wager him to be a Galra.  How did he get past Allura’s charms?  How the hell did he get anywhere _near_ here?

And there’s that _mate_ bullshit again.  Clearly, Kuro has started a rumor.  Keith would like to know what the fuck it means, before he hears other people talking about it.  Though, he’s positive that it’s something to do with a sick sense of ownership—he’s not unfamiliar with that concept.

“You heard wrong,” he hears Kuro say.  “You invited yourself for nothing.”

“Don’t be like that, Kuro,” the man coos.  “I simply want to meet my competition.  I have word from my men that they saw you, giving a human a grand tour of the area.”

 _Shit_.

He knows.  _They_ know.  It’s terrifying enough to think about how the wendigo could track him down and crave him, just for his humanity.  But, the Galra?  They’re fucking _smart_.  They have to be.  Once again, Keith finds himself mentally advocating for a _fucking door_ to this cave.

Kuro quickly recovers from what must be shock.  “I have to _eat_.  You know they don’t come easy.”

The other man hums condescendingly.  “I suppose.  You chose a _fine_ specimen to dine on this time, though.  Gorgeous.  My, look at that jaw.”

“ _Get off me_.”

At that, Keith takes a risk, and peeks out from behind the rock perch.  The intruder is tall.  He has white hair, like Allura’s, and it’s just as long.  But his skin is a deep purple, with pointed ears and fingers that taper into claws.  He’s wearing a long, flowing cloak that brushes the stone floor, made of a material Keith has never seen before.  And, he’s got Kuro’s chin caught in his hand.

Why isn’t Kuro moving?  Why is he just standing there, not attacking, not even fighting back?  Keith’s eyes flick between them as they glare tensely at one another.  For a sickening moment, Keith thinks they’re going to start kissing.  But, Kuro looks just as disgusted by the man’s actions, completely unwilling to humor him.

“You said you’d never come near me again,” Kuro reminds the man with a sneer.  “Is the prospect of me having a mate really enough to draw out the mighty Lotor, in all his royal glory?”

“Don’t mock me, _pet_.”  The man, Lotor, tosses Kuro away into the wall.  Kuro hits it _hard_ , and Keith winces.  “I’m merely _shocked_ that you would choose a mediocre human, when you’re so...well, _you_.”

Keith frowns.  Pet?  It’s obvious that Lotor s someone of importance, judging by his overall aura and his state of dress.  Does that mean Kuro worked under him, or something?

As Keith attempts to crawl closer, he knocks a pebble, and it makes the _smallest_ sound.  Keith curses, trying to shuffle backwards in an attempt to disappear.  Instantly, though, Kuro and Lotor zero in on his location.  Kuro exhales, clearly trying to keep his emotions under control, while Lotor beams gleefully at him and raises his arm. 

Keith has never been forced to his feet so fast before.  He cries out, and he can’t move, because Lotor has him flying forward until the Fae is holding him close.  Keith wants to pull away, but Lotor quickly crushes that thought, and fills his head with glamour, opening to flood gates of his mind to inject a glittering flow.

Prince.  _Prince_ Lotor.  Keith feels his arms wrapping around the man’s waist, his hands exploring the silkiness of Lotor’s robe.  It feels like water between his fingers.  Fascinated, Keith wriggles closer, lip between his teeth.  It’s not sexual, he just... _knows_ this man was meant to own him.  It feels right.  Safe.  Calm.

“He’s a beautiful little thing,” Lotor compliments, and Keith’s heart flutters.  He giggles, shyly pressing his forehead to Lotor’s chest because of the praise.  “Can I keep him, Daddy?  I’ll promise to take _good_ care of him.”

Keith whimpers.  He knows Lotor would _fill_ him, so well, and his clit _throbs_ at the thought.  Gasping, he thinks about Lotor’s cock, deep inside of him, making him come.  He thinks about _leaking_ , after Lotor has filled him so many times that he won’t be able to remember his name.

“Stop fucking touching him,” Kuro seethes.  Keith finds the sound grating and annoying.  “He doesn’t _want you_.”

What?  Keith doesn’t want his Prince?  Angrily, Keith turns to glare at the accuser, and his mind tears in half.  Fuck—fuck, why is he...?  Lotor is using some kind of fucked up glamour to—

“Shh, little thing,” Lotor calms, cupping Keith’s cheek.  Instantly, his head stops spinning, and Keith is so _grateful_ to have his Prince at his side.  “Don’t listen to the angry man.  You want me, don’t you?  You want to be mine, forever?”

What kind of question is that!  Keith swoons, his heart doing somersaults.  Lotor is so beautiful.  His eyes are sparkling.  He’s perfect.  More than perfect.  “Of course I do.”

“I swear to Voltron that I’ll fucking kill you,” Kuro spits.  “Let him _go_ , you coward.”

Lotor rolls his gorgeous eyes.  “I was only having fun, Kuro.  You’re missing a fantastic opportunity, here.  I bet he’d love to have both of us inside him.  Wouldn’t you, precious?”

Keith moans as unbearable pleasure courses through him—his mind supplies the images.  Lotor, deep inside his cunt, with Kuro buried inside his ass, and he’d be so _full_.  Stretched, used, open, and dripping wet for his Prince and his master.  Both of them, using him like a toy, kissing and loving and praising him.

Abruptly, the images stop.  Keith feels like he’s being ripped in two once more, but ultimately, he’s tossed to the side and thrown into something warm and hard.  It ends up being Kuro, who shields Keith with his arms—it’s enough to have Keith gasping for breath as his mind clears, fog dissipating.  Oh, God, what the fuck was that?  How the fuck did Lotor...?

That was so much stronger than anything Kuro has ever used against him.  Keith still feels residual tugs of glamour, and he has to lean into Kuro, closing his eyes.  His world is spinning again.  “Kuro, what...?”

“He’s mine,” Kuro growls.  “Just because you couldn’t have me doesn’t mean you get to take him.”

“I’ll have whatever I want,” Lotor responds airily.  Keith still doesn’t want to look at him.  God, he feels gross.  “If not now, then later.  I’m so glad I could come and survey what I’ll be tasting soon enough.”

Keith dares to look as Lotor leaves the cave.  Right before he does, however, he turns to press his hand against the rock.  When he pulls it away, a symbol with jagged edges is burned into the wall.

“You can’t hide from me, Kuro,” he teases.  “I’ll always find you.”

And then, he’s gone as quickly as he appeared.

“How did he do that.”  Keith very, very reluctantly pulls away from Kuro, running a shaky hand nervously through his hair.  “How—Kuro, what the fuck.  I couldn’t think at all.”

Kuro looks just as uncomfortable.  Just as perturbed.  The shapeshifter swallows, his eyes never leaving the mouth of the cave, as though Lotor could come back at any moment.  Keith supposes that’s not entirely a lie, and suddenly, he feels naked.  “He’s stronger than me.  By a lot.  I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop it.”

“But _that_ —Christ!  I was about to jump into his fucking arms and I didn’t even think about it.”  Keith paces, moving towards the fire unconsciously.  “ _That_ is glamour?  Like, full-force?”

It was overwhelming, he thinks.  In fact, he can still remember the ecstasy that overcame his thought process—he remembers how the ridges of Lotor’s cock inside of him were going to make him lose his mind.  Keith slams his eyes shut and tries to breathe without allowing bile to rise to his throat.

“Yes,” Kuro answers through gritted teeth.  “I can’t do that.  I can’t completely rewrite your thinking process.  Especially not in an instant.  He’s...he’s a prince.”

“I fucking gathered,” Keith says, voice trembling.  “I knew, the second he got into my head.”

Kuro rubs his hands over his face.  Keith has never seen him quite so agitated—in fact, he appears _nervous_ , of all things.  Keith watches him, with shaking hands, as Kuro breathes out evenly like he’s trying to fight off a panic attack.  Maybe he is.  Keith can relate.

“He can find us, now,” Kuro nearly whispers.  “That mark—we can’t hide this place with glamour.  He’ll always find it.  He can feel the energy, now.  When something changes.”

Fuck.  Keith’s eyes widen.  Lotor will know when they’re there, he’ll know whether or not Keith is alone, he’ll know if _anything_ happens.  They can’t hide from him. 

“We could move somewhere else,” Keith suggests shakily.  “I don’t know, like—Allura’s place, or something.  There are a million places we could go.”

Kuro shakes his head.  “You don’t understand _territory_.  I can’t just go off and pick whatever I want to claim as my own.  I’ve been here for a while, Keith.”

So, they can’t run, and they can’t hide.  They’re captives.  Both of them, not just Keith, and Lotor was so fucking _smug_ about it.  How could he possibly have that much control?  What kind of lunatic uses their magic to spy on others?  And Kuro, clearly, is familiar with this tracking trick.  He’s encountered it before.  That makes Keith feel even more uneasy.

“Can he hear what we’re saying, right now?”

Kuro pauses.  “I don’t know.”

Keith feels sick.

“I need to get out,” Keith says definitively.  “I don’t know, I need to—I have to leave this cave for a little bit or something.  I feel so fucking violated, right now, Kuro.”

Kuro looks him over once or twice, and then he stares out into the dark wilderness.  It’s pitch black out there.  Yet, somehow, it looks like a haven to Keith.  Even with the fire burning, it feels cold in the cave.  The symbol on the wall burns into his retinas.  They’re being watched.  Tracked.

“Okay,” Kuro says, and Keith blinks, because he wasn’t expecting such ready agreement.  Kuro must feel the oppressiveness, too.  “Okay, we can—I’ll take you hunting.”

Keith freezes.  “Are you serious?”

“We’ll look for you, first,” he says, and moves to his pile of belongings that Keith has only ever briefly regarded.  There are a few bags, and some look handmade.  The others are clearly stolen.  There are a few clothes, some pans (which look new) and a toothed knife, which Kuro pulls out and sheathes. 

Kuro, while a monster, doesn’t have fangs or claws.  In Shiro’s form, he’s Shiro, with all the appearance of a human.  Somehow, that makes him more terrifying, to Keith.  He doesn’t comment, but he’s sure that he looks visibly agitated while waiting for Kuro to lead him out of the cave.

“Stay close to me,” Kuro says, and starts walking, while Keith hurries to keep up with his pace.  “Don’t wander.  Not even a little bit.  I need to be able to see you.”

“Got it,” Keith agrees.  He wonders when he started taking orders from a monster without the help of glamour.  It’s been longer than he’d care to admit.

Keith is used to the darkness of the forest by now.  Or, at least, he thought.  Keith is constantly glancing over his shoulder as they move, with Kuro just about holding his hand.  The shapeshifter is pushing him gently in new directions, and Keith knows it’s because he’s tracking something.  Despite that, Keith can’t help but think about how Kuro would know if they were being followed. 

What he finds most eerie, actually, is that he hasn’t seen _any_ movement around them, so far.  They aren’t moving quietly or stealthily.  It feels like any hike in the woods, with Keith paying special attention to his footfalls, trying not to trip.  Contrary to what movies and television have made him believe, the forest at night is...pretty fucking dark, to say the least.

Suddenly, Kuro pushes down on Keith’s shoulder, and they both crouch behind a fallen log.  Keith can’t see much in front of him, but it’s obvious Kuro can, and he’s watching something.  Keith can’t tell by his expression whether or not that something is potential food, or potential death.

“Deer,” Kuro indicates under his breath, and Keith’s shoulders are immediately less tense.  “Watch this.”

Kuro stands.  Keith can make out the very outline of their prey, bent over and sniffing at a small patch of green.  Kuro steps over the log, and Keith remains crouched, and he knows what comes next.  He swallows.

Keith’s never been hunting, before.  So far, Kuro has brought back different meats and vegetation he knows Keith can live off of, and it all feels a bit like an episode of _Survivorman_.  But, Keith has never had to watch his food die.

Kuro uses glamour to encourage the deer towards him.  Keith watches, breath paused, as the deer calmly approaches the shapeshifter.  Instead of acting like a monster, pouncing on the animal and ripping it to shreds, Kuro _pets_ it.

Keith blinks.  Kuro’s palm brushes over the top of the doe’s head, and he takes a moment to scratch gently behind her ear.  Keith cocks his head in confusion as he watches Kuro kneel and whisper something to the animal.  Then, he slowly stands, placing both hands on either side of the doe’s neck.

He snaps it in one fluid motion.  The doe drops, without struggle.

It is the complete _opposite_ of how Keith expected Kuro to act during a hunt.  Kuro’s creep factor when they first met was so high, Keith believed he would commit some _Saw_ -level murder.  Cracking bones, tearing sinew, blood pooling and spraying.

But, no.  Kuro’s kill is in one piece.  It even appeared as though he spoke a prayer to it, or something.  Keith stares in disbelief, even as Kuro piles the animal onto his shoulders and walks towards Keith.

“That was...”  But Keith doesn’t have the right words.  He stands, too, and he feels bigger.  Taller.  Perhaps this is what it feels like to hunt.  Perhaps _this_ is the allure.  The power.  Keith doesn’t like it.

“Were you expecting a massacre?” Kuro asks.  “It’s not necessary to get bloody.  Especially not when we have to carry this back to the cave.”

“What did you say to it?”

Kuro ignores him.  He brushes past Keith and continues walking, but not in the direction of the cave.  Right—they still have to hunt for him.

Truthfully, Keith doesn’t _want_ to go back to the cave, right now.  It’s strange, but the forest feels safer.  They can run, here.  They have places to escape to, places to hide.  Places that Lotor can’t find.  Even if there are terrible beings roaming the trees around them, he knows Kuro could protect him.  Though, he didn’t seem very confident in himself when Keith ran the first time.

“What’s in the forest that’s more dangerous than you are?” Keith asks, conversationally, despite the topic.  “Besides...Lotor, I guess.”

“Do you really want to ask this question?  Like, while we’re taking a stroll in the middle of the night?”

Keith is reminded of reading creepypastas before bed.  “Just curious.”

After a few moments’ hesitation, Kuro gives into Keith’s request.  “The wendigo is pretty fucked up, but I can handle that.  Flatwoods is one to remember—it has big, red eyes and a weird arrow-shaped head.  Garou are basically demon wolves, like the one I turn into.”

“What about Goatman?” Keith asks, almost too enthusiastically.  “I remember that one from this forum I read.”

“Oh, my god,” Kuro groans.  “You sent that to me.  I’ve never seen him but he _definitely_ needs a different name.”

 _You sent that to me_.

Keith stops.  Kuro doesn’t notice until a few paces ahead.  “I told you to keep up.”

“I sent it to Shiro.”  Keith’s eyes can’t focus.  “I sent that forum link to Shiro.”

There’s only a slight pause before Kuro says, “Yeah.  I have his memories.  I thought we were pretty explicit about this.”

“But you’re not _him_ ,” Keith emphasizes.  “I didn’t send it to _you_.  You never talk about Shiro like you’re actually—“

“ _Keith_.”  Kuro’s eyes are a simmering gold in the blanket of black surrounding them.  “Let’s go.”

There’s no glamour.  But, Keith moves his feet forward, anyway.

Keith knows Shiro is inside of Kuro, somewhere.  That much is clear.  But, some hopeful part of him has always been wondering whether or not Kuro could _become_ Shiro.  Anything is possible, at this point, he thinks.  He’s seen a fucking fairy house appear out of thin air.  How absurd is it, really, to think that magic could do something like bring Shiro back?

But then, would Kuro disappear?  Keith stares at the back of Kuro’s head.  Yes, he’s been emotionally damaged.  He’s had his mind broken, and has consequently been humiliated.  But, Kuro’s never _harmed_ Keith.  And, he’s lightening up on the whole mind control thing.  Kuro has a past.  Kuro is his own person, his own being.

Maybe Keith doesn’t want to see that be taken away.

Kuro stops in his tracks, and even Keith can see the far-off glow from a flashlight being waved around in the darkness.  His heart constricts.  It’s a camper, in a small clearing, near a trickling stream.  Keith can even see another flashlight shining from inside a blue nylon tent.

Slowly, Kuro lowers the doe to the ground behind a rather large tree.  “Stay here.  Don’t move.  _Do not_ move.”

Keith swallows and nods.  “I’m not trying to die today.  I’ll say put.”

Kuro is about to walk away, but then, he turns.  He pauses, regards Keith with uncertainty, and then says, “Don’t look.”

So, of course, Keith watches.

Perhaps it’s morbid curiosity that has him poking his head out from behind the tree.  Perhaps it’s the need to take his mind off the fact that he’s surrounded by the pitch black night.  Whatever it is, Keith’s eyes are trained on Kuro’s slowly moving form.

The flashlight makes it easier to see what’s happening, so Keith can tell that Kuro’s target is a young woman.  She’s wearing pink pajama shorts and a _Star Wars_ hoodie.  She must have wandered away from camp to relieve herself.

Then, it hits him.  This is someone’s daughter.  Sister.  Girlfriend.  She has a life, a past, and a future.  She has a _name_ , and nicknames, and people who say it every day, taking it for granted.  She has favorite characters, favorite movies, favorite people who might be on her mind, in this moment. 

This is a person.  This is a real, breathing, person.

Just like Shiro.

She drops the flashlight, and Kuro is right on top of her.  A hand comes up to pet her face, just like with the doe.  Keith can’t see her expression, but her body language shows that she’s completely entranced, unable to move.

Kuro snaps her neck.  Her dead, lifeless body crumples into Kuro’s arms.  But, he doesn’t sling her over his shoulders to carry back to the cave.  Keith knows Kuro doesn’t want him to see this.  And then, he understands why.

Kuro takes his knife and dives it into her chest, pulling downward, until the front of her body is sliced in half.  He gently places her to the ground, even though her insides and organs have already started to seep out.

Keith fucking _bolts_.

That’s what happened to Shiro.  Shiro, his best friend, got _cut in half_ by the very same person he had just been mentally trying to defend.  Shiro was caught in Kuro’s spell, Shiro was lured into that trap, Shiro had his _neck snapped_.

Keith’s legs are burning along with his lungs, and he has no idea where he’s going.  It’s dark, so fucking dark, and he slams his shoulder into a tree.  The pain doesn’t register—he keeps _running_ , and he doesn’t understand why he’s falling to the ground until he realizes he just tripped over a rock.

He slams his hands into the muddy ground, ignoring the disgustingly damp feeling on the knees of his jeans.  And, just as he’s about to scramble to his feet, he hears a noise.  A cross between a bird chirping, a whistle blowing, and an infant crying.

Kuro told him to stay close.

He finally stands and whirls around, only to see a _face_ suspended in the blackness.  Its eyes are huge, and they look _human_ , without skin surrounding them.  Its mouth is stretched into a thin line, past the eyes, into a nightmarish grin.  The mouth doesn’t move when the thing makes its chirping noise again.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Keith breathes out, because holy fuck, he has _no_ weapons, not even a branch.  He can’t see his own feet.  And what the _fuck_ , what the _genuine fuck_ is this thing?  “What the hell even are you!”

He cries out in shock and fear as he rams his back into a tree, and the thing disappears.  Keith refuses to breathe.  In a flash of movement to his left, it reappears, fifty yards back and half behind a boulder.  The noise it makes sounds like it’s coming from his right.  When he looks, he sees it _again_ , twenty feet away.

“ _What_?!”  Keith shouts at it.  “What the fuck do you want from me?”

It vanishes, and then it’s right in front of his face, and Keith collapses to the ground.  It feels like his body is being sucked into a vacuum.  His _soul_ is draining away, and so is his energy, and his vision starts to fade to black—

Keith, as distant as if it were in a dream, hears a roar.  Then, the feeling of being slurped through a straw immediately dissipates, and Keith looks up in time to see a black panther guarding in front of him. 

The panther screams out a growl, claws digging into the Earth, and there’s another chirping sound.  Keith watches as the face fizzles into nothing, and the panther turns to him with glowing yellow eyes.

Keith snaps his head away before he can see Kuro transform, and then there are hands on his shoulders, and Keith flinches so hard he thinks he pulls a muscle.

“I told you not to move,” Kuro snarls at him.  “I _told_ you, Keith, why did you—?”

“Fuck off,” Keith spits out weakly.  “Just—fuck off, okay?”

“I just _saved_ your ass, because you thought it was a good idea to—“

“I said _fuck off_!”  Keith shoves Kuro away, and stumbles to his feet, ready to defend himself.  He’s no match, and he knows that, but Keith doesn’t know what just happened and he feels like the sky is shattering.  “You—!  You did that to Shiro!  You used your shitty fucking magic, and you—you _stabbed_ him.”

Kuro stops.  His amber eyes are wide, and Keith can’t tell if it’s out of fear, or out of anger.  “You weren’t supposed to look.”

“Well, I _did_.”  Keith barks a laugh, and pulls at his own hair.  “And now, I know what you fucking did to him.  You dragged him away, just like that girl, and you _ate him_.  You don’t even care, do you?!”

“Keith.”

“Don’t say my name like you give a shit about me,” Keith seethes.  He can’t see Kuro’s face through his tears, and he feels so _weak_.  “Don’t—you only ever wanted me as some fucked up sex toy.  You used _him_ to get to _me_.  We both know you’re going to do that to me one day, but you want to play with your food, first.”

Kuro doesn’t respond.  Keith can hear his breathing, only slightly heavier, as his eyes are trained at the ground. 

“Say something,” Keith sobs.  “Tell me how you’re gonna _justify_ this, to me.  Or how you’re gonna brainwash me until I can’t question you, anymore.  That’s what you want, isn’t it?  Some docile little slut who bows down to you?”

Kuro just _looks_ at him.  Though his eyes are solid and void of irises, they look _hurt_.  Exhausted. 

Old.

“Do you think I like doing this?”

Keith’s following retort dies in his throat.  Kuro sounds so...sad.  Keith blinks away his tears, and feels them roll down his face.

“I have to eat, Keith.”  More tears cascade down Keith’s cheeks, though he isn’t making any sounds.  “I didn’t choose Shiro because I wanted to ruin your life.  I chose him because he was the first person I saw.”

“Then, why did you try to freak me out?” Keith stutters.  He doesn’t protest, however, when Kuro approaches him.  “Why did you—why am I here?  You’re keeping me captive, and you trapped me out here.”

Kuro reaches up to wipe a tear from Keith’s jaw.  From this close, Keith can see how _heavy_ Kuro’s expression is.  “I had to protect you.”

“Protect me by getting into my head and fucking me,” Keith clarifies.  His voice is still rough and clogged with tears.  “And—and—“

“They will _never_ stop looking for you,” Kuro says desperately.  “I had to go with you.  Back home.  And I had to bring you back here.  Lotor—why do you think he suddenly showed up?”

Keith can barely speak.  “He...he said he wanted to meet your mate, or whatever.”

“He wants _you_.”  Kuro seems to be searching for the right words, but falling short.  “All these monsters, out here.  Some of them are his.  He’s been watching you from the beginning.  When I went to your camp, that first night, I could—I could feel them.  And I knew I had to be with you to keep you _safe_.”

“Why did you bother, then?”  Keith hiccups as Kuro presses their foreheads together.  “Why did you try to protect me?  You could have let me die.  You could have let him take me.”

Kuro is silent for two, three breaths. 

“I don’t know.”

He sounds so incredibly broken that Keith’s lips part in shock.  It’s a kind of sincerity he’s never seen from Kuro.  And, it’s not from Shiro’s residual memory.  He sounds like he’s being torn apart by his grief, his fear.  Keith only ever heard someone speak like this, once.  Himself, when his father died. 

“Okay,” he says, taking Kuro’s face in his hands.  “Hey—okay.  Let’s just go back, okay?  Let’s go back.”

Kuro pulls away.  He clears his throat.  “We need to get the doe.”

Keith nods, though Kuro’s back is already turned.  “Okay.”

They don’t speak on the journey back.  It’s not a comfortable silence.  There’s something heavy and tangible between them, and Keith wants to reach out, grab it, and pull it apart.  He still doesn’t _understand_.  Kuro hasn’t exactly been an angel, to him.  Sure, he’s never been violent, but there have been times where Kuro seemed to _want_ to scare Keith.

He understands the need to eat, though.  And, he supposes, Kuro is in a very difficult position if he has any morals left at all.  He _needs_ to consume humans.  It’s not as though there are shells of people just lying around the forest, waiting to be claimed.  All things considered...Kuro’s actions were as peaceful as they could have been.

The cave feels warmer that the forest, though the fire has burnt out.  Keith sees Lotor’s mark and bites his lip.  Their conversations, from this point forward, aren’t private.  Their sex isn’t private.  And, with the recent implication that Lotor _wants him_ , Keith isn’t sure he can handle this situation at all.

Kuro places the deer onto the ground, and Keith perches atop their fur bed, pulling his knees to his chest.  “It’ll go bad before I can eat all of it.”

“I can use magic to freeze it,” Kuro answers.  Keith nods, as he’s used to talking about magic.  That thought alone is enough to have him resting his chin on his forearms, sighing.

Kuro moves towards the bed hesitantly, and Keith stares up at him.  They’re both wondering whether or not it’s okay to sit together.  Ultimately, Kuro settles next to Keith, leaning back against their makeshift pillows.

“I wasn’t always a shapeshifter,” he says.

Keith’s brows furrow.  “So, you were like a wendigo?  You changed because of something you did.”

Kuro laughs under his breath, but it’s humorless.  “Wrong place, wrong time.  1876, actually.  The river used to be a great place to fish.”

Keith’s heart stops.  “1876.  What.  _What_.”

“The Galra got to me,” Kuro continues.  “I was human.  Their royal mage, Haggar—she wanted to see if she could transform a human into Fae.  I was her test subject.”

“What the fuck,” Keith breathes.  He recalls his conversation with Allura and feels his heart sink.  “Test subject...?  She did experiments on you?”

“Among other things.”  Kuro smirks, but it’s dark.  Haunted.  “It didn’t work.  Obviously.  I ended up being this...fucked up version of a shapeshifter.  And all that other shit out there, those are her other botched science projects.”

“How did you get out?” Keith asks.

“Lotor wanted me to be his mate,” Kuro explains, and Keith nods.  He remembers the prince mentioning that.  It was hours ago, but Keith still thinks he can taste the acid that threatened to rise from his stomach.  “Not sure why.  I guess I was just his type.  But...I kept saying no.  For a mate bond to form, both parties have to consent to it, so you can’t use glamour.”

“Mate bond...?”

“Basically, you become soulmates with someone.  You feel what they feel, you know when they’re hurt, and you’re with each other forever.  So, as you can imagine, I’m not really feeling that with Lotor.”

“Neither am I,” Keith grumbles.

“He cast me out.”  Kuro heaves a sigh.  “Shapeshifting is a taboo.  If Lotor couldn’t have me as his mate, he didn’t want me there at all.  Since I was a failed experiment to begin with, they told me to fuck off.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’ve been kind of a dick to me,” Keith says, not wanting the topic to be ignored.

“It’s because of them.”  Kuro’s tone is hateful.  “They—sometimes I feel it.  I feel _her_ , trying to tell me I need to be ruthless if I’m going to last.  I don’t...I don’t want to hurt you, Keith.  I don’t.”

Keith shakes his head as he soaks up all the information.  “You called _me_ your mate.”

There’s silence, and then Keith finally turns his head to stare at Kuro.  As far as Keith can tell, being mates doesn’t affect Kuro’s ability to protect him.  Slowly, Kuro rises, until their shoulders are brushing.

“It’s something about you,” he admits.  “I just—I don’t know.”

Keith bites his lip.  “You sound kind of lonely.”

“Maybe I am,” Kuro says, offering a sad smile.  “Maybe I know you can fix that.”

Keith is breathless.  His mind is spinning.  All of what Kuro is saying makes sense, and surprisingly, Keith feels _sympathy_.  All of those minds, those voices inside of Kuro...he’s had to consume so many people.  And each time, he absorbs all of their memories.  Their feelings, their thoughts.  It’s surprising that he can even remember his past, let alone cling to some semblance of character.

Keith tilts Kuro’s face closer by his chin.  He looks like Shiro, but only...only _slightly_.  Now, Keith couldn’t possibly confuse the two.  He searches those golden eyes for something, but he isn’t sure what.  Maybe other souls.  Maybe Kuro’s real self.

Slowly, Keith pulls Kuro forward until their lips meet.  It’s the very first time they’ve kissed without glamour, without sex being a part of the equation.  Kuro feels soft, gentle.  Scared.  Keith doesn’t want him to feel scared.  As his mind blurs of its own accord, Keith leans closer, pushing Kuro back against the fur.  A warm hand skirts up the back of Keith’s shirt, and he gasps against Kuro’s lips.

Something burns low in Keith’s stomach, like a furnace, and Kuro fuels the fire when his hand skirts down to grip at Keith’s thigh.  Still, it isn’t sexual.  It isn’t purely _fucking_ , the way it normally is.  Keith wants this—he wants Kuro.  And, as the heat surrounds him, and his cheeks inflame, Keith can only think about how _right_ it feels.

“We need to be careful,” Kuro whispers, his breath mingling with Keith’s, and Keith feels more pressure on his thigh.  “We could—you don’t want to form the bond.”

Keith pulls back once more to search Kuro’s expression.  A mate bond is for _life_.  The prospect is terrifying, and no, he’s not ready for it.  He knows that.  He could still get out of here, somehow, if they could figure out a way.

“We don’t have to do everything,” Keith murmurs.  “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Kuro’s laugh is husky and dark.  “Better use protection.”

“Shut up.”

Just as Keith is falling forward for another kiss, ready to lose himself in the prospect of _this_ , Kuro freezes.  His head snaps to the forest, and Keith immediately worries that Lotor has returned.  He can hear leaves rustling, the sound of footsteps, and...

...and the light of a flashlight.  Familiar voices.

The beam shines right into his eyes and Keith flinches.  There’s a very prominent gasp, followed by voices he knows _too fucking well_.

“Keith?  _Shiro_?”

Lance is standing in the entrance of the cave.  Pidge stumbles behind him, and Hunk runs a few feet in front of him.

Lotor’s symbol on the wall starts to burn bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a liiiittle shorter than chapter 2 but SO much happened. there's lotsa exposition but for Reasons it had to happen before the next chapter. hopefully i didn't lose anyone in lore hell.
> 
> i am DETERMINED to make this work in a way that doesn't change the first chapter...i really don't wanna have to go back and edit it, because i think half the magic of this story is that yall made it happen!
> 
> hmu on twitter @hitchups!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL........lol........hha.a.a...........season 3 was..... certainly something wasnt it....

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Keith hisses, scrambling to his feet.  Fuck, _fuck_ , Lotor is going to know that they’re here.  Three humans.  God, how could he pass that up?  “Oh, my God.  Oh, my _God_ , you guys need to fucking run, _right now_.”

But, of course, they won’t.  Lance is in awe.  There are tears in his eyes.  And for a split moment, Keith is more concerned about Lance crying than Lance living.  He looks both devastated and immeasurably relieved.  His soft brown eyes flick between Keith and Kuro, as if he’s trying to figure out which one he wants to hug first.

Pidge looks smaller than usual.  They’ve got their hands up to their face and cupped over their mouth.  Even with Pidge’s height disadvantage, they always pack a personality that makes them feel More.  Right now, Pidge is fading into a background of their own mind, trying to understand why their best friends are alive, healthy, but not home.

Hunk’s eyes are wide, and unforgivingly hopeful.  Keith only glances at him for a moment before he feels like he’s been burned, turning away.  Guiltily.  He feels _guilty_ , even though he’s the one who has been brought out here and held captive.  Keith feels like his parents just walked in on him masturbating.

“Keith, we’ve—we’ve been looking for you everywhere, man,” Lance responds, a hesitant smile on his face, like he didn’t hear what Keith just said.  Kuro is on his feet now, too, and Keith turns to see that he’s blinked his eyes back to normal, human irises.  “You guys have been gone for two weeks.  I just—Christ, you’re _alive_.”

Of course.  Kuro mentioned there were cops by both of their apartments, and _of course_ this would lead to some kind of search party.  But, after two weeks, that means these three have been wandering the fucking forest by themselves, because Shiro and Keith are likely assumed to be dead.

It’s dark beyond the cave.  So, so dark.  Keith can’t stop staring at the night.

“They told us you were probably dead,” Pidge stutters, stepping forward, a tremor in their voice.  “I...Keith, we missed you.  I _missed_ you.  Why are you...why are you guys hiding here...?”

“You don’t understand,” Kuro rushes out, his eyes flitting between the group and the symbol on the wall, which seems to be glowing with increasing intensity.  “You don’t—this situation.  We’re not hiding.  This isn’t...you should have let us stay missing.”

“Keith,” Hunk calls.  He nearly trips forward, and Keith is pulled into a strong embrace.  Keith hates it, because he hates how _comforting_ it is.  Hunk is always a human rock, to anyone he meets, and Keith selfishly wants to stay in his arms forever.  “Fuck, man.  _Fuck_.  I...I cried over you.  I was so _scared_.”

Keith wants to comfort him.  He _wants_ to tell them all that he’s okay, that they didn’t have to worry, but that’s not fucking true.  Shiro is dead.  But, they think he’s standing in front of them, and Pidge is falling into a hug around his torso.  Keith frantically looks towards Kuro for what to do next, but the shapeshifter appears just as terrified.

They’re his friends, too.  Kuro _remembers_ them, just as well as Shiro did.  He doesn’t know what to do.  Neither of them know what to _do_.

“What the fuck is that?”

Lance is pointing at the symbol, and Keith inhales sharply.  They can’t hide this.  Lance isn’t going to run in the other direction.  Keith could never make any of them leave.  They were captured the second they stepped foot into this forest.  His friends— _their_ friends are painstakingly loyal.  Deadly loyal.

“It’s—dude, what the _fuck_?”

“Please leave,” Keith nearly sobs.  “Please.  Lance, _please_.  You’re not safe here.  I can’t—“

But, of course, they haven’t moved fast enough.  Realistically, they never could have moved fast enough to avoid Lotor.  He would have captured them regardless, with his eyes and ears across the expanse of the forest.  As dawn begins to rise, and a soft blue light soaks their bodies, Lotor swirls around the corner and waves at Keith with a happy salute.

“ _Ciao_ , my darling.”

Keith’s friends _whirl_ around to see the prince, bathed in the magenta glow of his fading symbol on the rock.  Keith’s mind is too fucking numb to even register their reactions.  He can’t breathe.  “I was _wondering_ when something exciting would happen.  This is quite the turn of events.”

There is a distinct moment when all three of Keith’s friends are noticeably frozen in time.  They stop breathing, even.  Keith doesn’t even want to approach the thought that Lotor has killed them—besides, that would be too easy for this sick son of a bitch.

“Let them go,” Kuro chokes out.  “They don’t have anything to do with this—they’re innocent.”

“They’re not innocent if they’re connected to you,” Lotor corrects coldly.  “You _disgust_ me, Kuro.  Any friend of yours is an enemy of mine.”

“I guess that doesn’t count for me,” Keith quips. 

It’s _bold_.  He can feel Kuro’s horrified stare, but Keith keeps eye contact with Lotor, breathing hard.  He’s not backing down, this time.  He _cowered_ before, curling into Kuro’s chest like a weakling.  Not anymore.  Lotor won’t control him. 

Keith narrows his eyes and gives his best patronizing face.  “Unless you’ve already given up.”

Lotor cocks his head, giving Keith a wry and twisted smile.  “Oh, he’s a feisty kitten this morning, isn’t he?  You’re risking a lot.  Your friends might not be able to speak, but they can see.”

Keith feels the glamour start at his feet, like rising smoke, as it threatens to overcome his entire body.  He straightens his spine.  He doesn’t back down.  “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Lotor tells him, smooth and soft.

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk are still motionless.  It’s better this way, Keith thinks—it means Lance can’t get himself into trouble by asking too many questions. 

How much glamour is Lotor using on them, right now?  How much effort is he expending to do all these magic tricks at once?

“You don’t have a use for humans,” Kuro interrupts.  “They can’t benefit you.”

Lotor laughs, and the sound is musical.  “ _Kuro_!  You, of all people, should know better than that.”

Keith’s bones go cold.  Experiments.  He tries _so hard_ not to show his fear, but his expression crumbles, along with his hope for the situation.  He can’t do anything.  They can’t do anything, and it’s all because Keith and Shiro went camping.

“Besides,” Lotor continues, “They’re excellent entertainment, aren’t they?”

Suddenly, Lance is screaming—out of frustration, it seems, and his voice breaks near the end of his wail.  Pidge and Hunk remain silent, although Keith isn’t sure whether or not that’s voluntary.  Lance, however is twitching against the magic binds.

“What the fuck are you?” he shouts.  “What the _fuck_ is going on?”

“What the fuck is going on, _your Highness_ ,” Lotor corrects, smirking.  “We can work on that.”

“ _Fuck_ you!”  Lance is growling through gritted teeth once more, unable to move.  “How the hell are you doing this to us?  Who the hell is _Kuro_?”

Lotor stops, along with Keith’s heart.  The prince turns, a confident smile on his face, as he approaches Lance.  Keith has enough freedom to dash forward, but Lotor stops him, as though his feet are now stuck in wet cement.  “What is your name, little human?”

“Get away from him,” Pidge snaps from a few feet away.  The sound of their voice is, for once, not encouraging.  “Just let us go, you freak!”

“Pidge, don’t,” Kuro warns, strained and scared.  “Please don’t.”

But, Lance isn’t listening to Kuro’s warnings.  “Lance,” he spits with ferocity, giving Lotor his name like it’s a piece of broken glass.

“ _Lance_ ,” Lotor repeats.  Then, he’s carding his fingers through Lance’s hair, gripping the strands at the back of his neck and _pulling_.  “I don’t like smart mouths.  I prefer that those mouths do something a little more productive.”

 _No_.

There’s no transition.  Instantly, Lance is falling into Lotor’s arms.  He’s a bubbly mess of smiles and giggles, and he blushes, pressing his hips closer to Lotor’s.  Lance bites his lip coyly when Lotor skirts a hand down to the back of his jeans, exploring a body he has no right to.

“ _Stop it_ ,” Keith pleads.  He hates how desperate his voice sounds, but _Lance_.  God, Lance, he doesn’t—he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.  Keith would take Lotor’s glamour a thousand times over to avoid the sight in front of him.  To avoid Lance’s mind being stolen away. 

“What did you do to him?!”  Hunk can’t move, but judging from the look in his eyes, he’s trying his hardest.  Keith’s heart aches and he can’t _handle this_.  He can’t handle his friends being in this lunatic’s arms.

“I could keep this one, Kuro,” Lotor says, ignoring the outbursts.  Lance looks _enthralled_ by the idea.  “What do you think?  He’d make a decent plaything.  I could toss him to my warriors once I grow bored of him.”

Lance _moans_ , likely because Lotor is forcing him to imagine a group of warriors taking advantage of him.  Keith is going to start hyperventilating.  This is how he looked.  This is what Kuro saw.  There is no blankness in Lance’s eyes.  Keith recognizes the feeling of being entirely lucid, and Lance is completely present, right now.  There is no fog across his vision.  There is no fighting.

The silence from the others is suffocating.  They’re in shock.  Keith can’t fucking explain this nightmare to them.

“Please,” Keith begs.  He’s willing to beg.  If he needs to _beg_ to free Lance from this bullshit, then he’ll get on his knees, for as many reasons as needed.  “Please, stop.  Lotor.  Please.”

When Lotor’s eyes meet Keith’s, the spell breaks, and Lance is left tumbling backwards and onto his ass.  His chest heaves, and his expression is flooded with fear.  Keith wants nothing more than to run to him, kneel by his side, and pull him into a protective hug where Lotor can’t fucking touch him.  But, he still can’t move.  He can barely blink.

“Why are you doing this?” Keith whispers brokenly.  “What the hell is in this, for you?”

Lotor creeps closer to him, examining Keith’s features.  The Fae is dark.  Calculating.  Keith wants to convince himself that he’s not afraid.  He wants to convince _Lotor_ that he’s brave in the face of death.  But, Lotor’s pointed claw tips his chin up, and his thumb presses down on Keith’s lip.  Even with such a small touch, Keith can feel so much power.

“This is what happens when I don’t get what I want, Keith.”  Lotor tilts Keith’s head up, as if to inspect him.  “If I can’t have you in my life, then I’ll _destroy_ yours.”

“Just kill me,” Keith chokes.  “Kill me and leave them.  Please.  I’ll go with you, I’ll—I don’t care what you do to me.”

“ _Keith_ ,” he hears Kuro call out.  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Lotor quirks the corner of his lips.  “The trip will go faster if you sleep in the car, sweetie.”

Then, it’s black.

* * *

 

When Keith wakes up, and the world swims into focus, he’s staring at the most amazing sight, more breathtaking than anything he could ever imagine.

In front of him is a sprawling chasm, and on either side, two channels of flowing water act as a bridge across the vast expanse.  Mist rises from the space below, clouding any river they might be able to see.  Waterfalls, some that are _hundreds_ of feet, cascade off the edges of the ravine into the void below.

But the most impressive and otherworldly aspect is the city on the edge of the cliff across from them.

It is guarded by a _monolithic_ stone lion, seated on its haunches, with ancient wings that spread from its back.  Keith has never seen anything so towering, so _awesome_.  On its chest is a stained glass wall that rises to the lion’s heart.  Its eyes—Christ, they’re _glowing_ like Kuro’s, bright and glittering in the rising sun that is soaking the lion in the most triumphant auburn radiance.  Behind the lion, there is a sprawling city, of gothic architecture and watch tower spires that reach for the skies. 

But, seeing this—it means they’re officially captured.  Lotor is taking them to Galra Headquarters.  And, to be frank, Keith thinks that Lotor is a bit more imaginative than throwing them all away to be experiments.

It means, for lack of better words, that shit is about to go _down_.

“Welcome to Galleria,” Lotor introduces proudly, striding into Keith’s peripheral vision.  Kuro is rising up onto his elbow to Keith’s right, and the other three currently look as though they’re recovering from a hangover on his left.  “Always stunning.  I couldn’t be more proud.”

“ _This_ is where the Galra live?”  Keith can’t—there’s no way.  How is this hidden so well?  How could glamour possibly be that powerful?

He thinks about the last few days.  How, when he met Allura and first saw her tiny hut, he thought that was the most impressive thing in the universe.  He remembers how the last two weeks have been spent holed up in a cave.  Of course, he’d been dealing with nightmarish creatures—but he _recognized_ the world around him.  He saw trees and rivers and rocks and _nothing_ even remotely close to this.  Galleria.

“It’s not as great as it looks,” Kuro sneers, his eyes trained on Lotor.

“How did you do that?” Lance asks Lotor, and Keith turns to see him standing shakily, using a tree as support.

“Did we _teleport_?” Hunk gasps.  “Oh my _God_.  I know this is life or death and all, but _dude_.  This is a lot better than Physics 345.”

Lotor ignores them, and he waves a boat from the dock to their right.  The river that leads into the bridge channel is calm and obviously made to be some kind of makeshift port.  “Well, come along.  I trust you won’t disobey me, now that you’re _intimately_ familiar with what I could do.”

But, Hunk glances between each of them, unmoving.  “I know I totally don’t understand any of what’s going on, your...Highness?  And like, that’s cool, I guess?  But...”

“That’s a lake,” Pidge finishes, eyebrow raised in displeasure.  “Your fancy, powerful city...is a lake.”

Lotor pauses, clearly bewildered, before realization dawns on him.  “Oh, of course!  I forgot that humans are simple creatures.”

“Is that an insult?” Lance mutters.

Keith watches as all three of them stumble backwards, as the glamour fades away.  Inwardly, Keith is _screaming_.  After this, they won’t be able to take back their ignorance.  Their safety.  God, why did they have to come looking?  Why did they have to be so _good_?

The shock and awe on their faces after they’ve recovered is both sickening and beautiful.  If they were going to see any amazing sights before they died, this is the best thing they could have asked for.

“Okay, _what_ the fuck.”  Lance walks forward, knowing that Lotor is on his last legs of patience, but he can’t take his eyes off the city.  “I mean, I know I’ve been saying that a lot today, but what the actual _fuck_.”

Keith carefully situates himself next to Kuro on the back row of seats.  The boat is similar to a gondola—quite skinny, and small enough to traverse the bridge while still being able to hold all six of them.

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge are sitting ahead of Keith, and subtly, with the freedom of his own movement, Keith reaches forward to take Lance’s hand.  “Are you okay?”

“Fuck no,” Lance answers breathlessly.

“I am numb, at this point,” Hunk admits.  “Like, I’m just convinced we all accidentally took acid or something, and this is a _really_ weird trip.  Involving tall, pretty, purple alien men.  And stone lions.  And mind control.”

“We’re not on acid,” Keith says.

“Then, we’re on something!  Because what the fuck, Keith?  _Look_ at what we are seeing, right now.  I’m literally...I’m in a boat, going across a bridge made of water, to some magical city with a huge lion in front of it.”  Hunk turns and gives Keith an incredulous look.  “It must be something!  Maybe we accidentally ate bad mushrooms.”

“You’re _not_ high.”  Kuro’s eyes are still human when they roll and glare at Hunk.  Keith wonders if that’s an attempt to calm the situation even more.  “It was magic.”

“Glamour, to be precise,” Lotor hums, sitting at the front of the boat, facing all of them with his lanky legs crossed.  It’s disturbing how cordial this conversation is.  “You can imagine that we’ve perfected it, over the last few thousand years.”

“Wait,” Pidge interrupts.  “Glamour?  Like...Fae.  And Fairies.”

Lotor actually looks _impressed_ , before he twists the expression to match his usual condescending nature.  “Well _done_ , my little prodigy.  They would love you in Agni.  You’re practically the Scholar’s descendant.”

“Are you just saying shit because you know it’ll confuse them?” Kuro accuses.  “They were literally blinded by glamour until about five minutes ago.”

Keith figures, at this point, Kuro is going for broke.  They aren’t making it out of here.  Slowly, that realization is looming.  Fuck respect.  _Fuck_ niceties.  Lotor is going to kill them, and as the gondola moves slowly across the chasm below, Keith knows they have absolutely nothing to lose.

“I imagined you’d at least explain to _Keith_ the bare minimum, Kuro.”  Lotor rolls his eyes, but then, he catches something.  Keith’s hesitance.  Kuro’s pause.  His gaze flicks between Kuro, Keith, and the other three humans in front of him.

Keith can practically hear the others’ thoughts— _Why would Shiro need to explain anything_?

“ _Oh_.”  Lotor is grinning, and Keith’s stomach drops.  “They don’t know, do they?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Kuro snaps.

“Well, how long do you expect to hide it?” Lotor laughs.  “They’re going to find out sooner or later, Kuro.  It’s best we get it out of the way.”

“What’s he talking about?” Lance croaks, and Keith exhales, glancing at Kuro.  “Get what out of the way?”

Lotor is right.  There’s no point in hiding it.  Keith braces for their reactions, praying that no one starts to cry.

Lotor, with his signature smirk gracing his lips, says, “Your precious Shiro is dead.  What you see before you is a shapeshifter, wearing his skin.  Like a _trophy_.”

There’s a few seconds of silence before Lance scoffs, so indignantly that Keith’s throat goes dry.  “Yeah.  Okay.  Shiro, tell this bitch who’s boss.”

Kuro hasn’t stopped glaring at Lotor, and now, Keith can see that his eyes are shining.  His jaw is clenched.  _How could you.  How could you give me away_.  Because they might not have ever noticed.  Maybe, Kuro could escape with them.  Go back to school like nothing has happened.  And Keith would be the only one to ever know he’s an impostor.

It’s not realistic.  But, now, it’s impossible.

“I’m—sorry,” Kuro whispers, broken.  Keith could scream.  The ripples of the water are too loud against the side of the boat.  “I wish I never...I’m sorry.”

And, this?  This is what the Galra took away.  Because Kuro _used_ to be human.  He used to feel guilt and fear and self-loathing, but they made him cold and a killer.  Keith is still trying desperately to work out why Kuro is pulling a one-eighty without getting too hopeful.

“My best friend isn’t _dead_ ,” Lance emphasizes.  Though, his voice cracks, and his eyes are starting to well.  “Shiro, come on.  Stop it.”

“Lance,” Pidge whispers, their voice quiet.  “Lance, please.”

“ _Shiro_ ,” Lance pleads, and Hunk reaches for him, because Lance is starting to move from his seat like he wants to wrap his arms around Kuro.  “Come on, man.  Wh-when’s my birthday?”

Kuro sighs, and his expression is heavy.  “July twenty-eighth.”

“See?  Come on, how could a shapeshifter know that, huh?”

“He took Shiro’s memories,” Keith answers, but he doesn’t want Kuro to think he’s abandoning him, so he grips the shapeshifter’s hand.  He sees Hunk stare, and his eyebrows knit in...betrayal.  “It’s true, Lance.  His name is Kuro.  Shiro—Shiro is dead.”

Lotor’s smirk is bemused and silent.

“Then how the fuck are you _holding his hand_?” Pidge nearly yells.  They stand, obviously not caring if it rocks the boat over a seemingly endless chasm.  “Did he brainwash you, or something?  He killed Shiro and you went for a two week camping trip?”

“It’s a long story,” Keith croaks.

“We walked in on you _kissing_ ,” Hunk spits indignantly.  “And...and you knew the whole time?  You’re fucking the guy who killed Shiro?”

Lotor clears his throat.  “Ate him, also.”

“Oh, what the _fuck_ ,” Lance breathes.  Tears are flowing, now, and he’s rising to his feet as well.  “I can’t—I can’t do this.  This is a dream or something.”  He whirls to Lotor and glares.  “Are you fucking with my head again?”

Lotor raises his hands innocently.  “Not sure why I would do that, Lance.  There’s no skin off my back if you lot are at odds.  That’s not what I’m here for.”

“So, what are you here for?” Kuro snaps at him.  “Are you making us your new guinea pigs, or what?”

“Or _what_ , indeed, Kuro,” Lotor hums.  They’re nearing the end of the bridge, and Keith is interlocking his fingers with Kuro, even when his friends gape in horror.  “I suppose getting all of you riled up is certainly not going to make Keith’s life _easier_.  But, I have another goal.  I think it would be _much_ more satisfying.  A little more punch, if you will.”

“Yeah, you definitely look like you’re a bitch for drama,” Lance growls through his tears.  “You sick freak.”

And then, Lance turns to look at Kuro.  And then _Keith_.  With the same hateful expression.

Keith hopes Lotor makes it quick.

The bridge slowly turns into a channel running through the entrance of the city.  There are no gates in Galleria; Keith wonders if this is a sign of prosperity or daring.  Or, both.  The architecture of this city resembles a cross between Venice and a gothic paradise—water canals snake on and on, surrounded by tall and spired buildings.  Keith is so distracted by the scenery and the _fairy city_ that it takes him a few moments to realize.

“Where are all the people?” he asks Kuro, but Lotor answers, because he thinks Keith gives a shit about whatever he has to say.

“Citizens ruin public property,” he says airily.  He waves his hand, and the boat docks next to a wooden pier, jutting out from the cobble of the street.  “They stay where they are unless I need them to move.”

“...Are you kidding?” Hunk wobbles on his feet before Pidge helps him out of the boat.  “Your citizens are on constant lockdown?”

Lotor gives him a genuinely confused look.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Have you always been a raging psychopathic dictator?” Lance asks.  “Or is this a new development for you?”

Lotor laughs.  Keith hates the sound—he feels every neuron in his brain backfire when he hears it.  “Ah, Lance.  I trust I don’t have to tell you to _behave_.  You know what I can do to you, hm?”

That shuts Lance up.  Keith has the strongest urge to reach for his hand, to grab his shoulder, _to do anything_ , but Lance probably hates him.  For the past day and a half, Keith thought he was finally understanding Kuro—now, he’s not so sure.  Maybe an outside perspective was all he needed to realize that he’s still under the control of a killer.

They all follow Lotor.  It feels wrong, because there are so many places to hide, and Keith’s instincts to run are frantic.  But, he knows it would be a mistake.  Lotor would find them immediately, and they’d be even worse off.  It’s better to find out what’s going on in Lotor’s mind before they get themselves killed.

He leads them to the lion statue, which is somehow even larger than it appeared to be from across the ravine.  It towers high into the sky, and the doors are hidden at the bottom of its front paws.  Lotor has two men guarding them, dressed in heavy metal armor, with helmets that cover the top halves of their faces.  Keith takes one look and then hurriedly glances away.

They follow the prince down a long hallway, lit with torches that are glowing _purple_.  It gives the gothic atmosphere an ominous aura, and Keith subconsciously steps closer to Kuro.  The shapeshifter reaches out to hold Keith’s hand.  Keith isn’t sure if his relief is due to glamour, but he’s grateful for it, regardless.  
  
The hall then opens to a grand and bright room, with a ceiling that must rise at least one hundred feet.  Keith’s lips part in shock, because the area is so incredibly _beautiful_ and at odds with their situation.  Natural sunlight floods the space through the impossibly tall stained-glass windows.  
  
And the floor—Jesus.  It’s a mosaic.  In the center is a depiction of a lion’s head, surrounded by five other sections.  Each section seems to represent an element.  And, surrounding the whole presentation, there are channels in the floor that appear to be meant for flowing water.

“Who _built_ this?” Pidge asks, and there’s wonder in their voice, surprisingly detached from the emotional strain of their situation.  “How old is it?”

“My great grandfather told tales of his ancestors working on this cathedral,” Lotor says wistfully.  “No one truly knows their names.  The Temple of Voltron is quite something to behold.”

“Voltron?”  Keith heard Kuro speak of it, but there was no further explanation, which seems to be a common theme.

“The Creator,” Kuro explains.  “He created the Fae from his own blood.  From there, he designated them to five different elements, with one disciple to guide each race.”

“Oh, God, you guys have an entire religion?” Hunk breathes.  “ _That’s_ what this is?  I don’t think I can process all of this in one day, dude.”

“I _definitely_ can’t,” Lance mumbles.  “I’m still going through the whole spiel about fairies and shit.”

“So, the elements are here,” Pidge says, pointing at the floor.  They are entirely involved; it makes sense.  They’ve always been the most inquisitive, and they’ve _always_ been interested in supernatural cryptid stuff like this.  God, the number of times Keith has seen Pidge with library books on this shit is insane.  He’s pretty sure Pidge is the only one who still even goes to the library.  “Fire, water, earth....air?  What’s this other one?”

“Ether,” Kuro finishes.  “The other is actually sky.”

“What is this, _Avatar_?” Lance asks, folding his arms and raising his eyebrow.  “Christ.  You’re not very original.”

“To be fair, neither is a monotheistic religion comprised of creeds with multiple factions and variations of interpretation,” Pidge points out, adjusting their glasses.  “We have no room to talk.”

“ _Blood is the way of Life, as it is in death, for those who seek reformation cannot achieve solace without first providing expense_ ,” Lotor quotes.  Keith has no idea what the prince is talking about, but it doesn’t sound so great.  “In other words, Voltron requires sacrifice every full moon.”

“Voltron requires _one_ sacrifice involving your strongest warrior,” Kuro corrects.  “If you want to sacrifice someone, you have to test them, first.  I doubt any of us are as good as your soldiers.”

“Nonsense,” Lotor scoffs.  “There are _five_ of you.  What better way to honor our creator than to repay him for our elements, Kuro?”

“Are you seriously going to make us blood sacrifices for a fairy god?”  Lance throws his hands in the air.  “That’s it.  This is a fever dream.  I’m convinced.”

“I’m telling you, we’re tripping, man,” Hunk warns.  “We probably accidentally broke into a church and someone already called the cops on us.”

Kuro interrupts their rambling by baring his teeth at Lotor.  “You’d commit _sacrilege_ to make a fucking point?  To ruin his life?”

“I’ll kill them first,” Lotor says, nodding at Hunk, Pidge, and Lance.  “Keith can watch his closest friends choke on their own blood while they suffer.  And _then_ , I’ll kill him, fileting his flesh off his bones and burning it, just so you can die _hungering_ after his body like an animal.”

Keith feels all the blood in his body turn to ice as he whirls around to Kuro.  He needs to know this isn’t really happening.  He _needs_ to know that his friends are going to live, that Kuro can fight off Lotor if he tries hard enough.  But Kuro’s face remains hard.  _Scared_.  He meets Keith’s panicked gaze and sharply inhales.

They’re so fucked.

“Let’s line you up,” Lotor says cheerfully.  He glances at Lance and _flings_ him to the section of the mosaic portraying ocean waves.  “Lance!  A sacrifice to honor the Winemaker.”

Lance isn’t moving.  Keith rushes forward to see if he’s still breathing when he feels himself smack into the floor.  The glass tiles scratch at his skin when he pushes onto his knees, seeing flames beneath his hands.

“The Scholar,” Lotor sings.  “Disciple of fire.”

“Stop _toying_ with us,” Pidge seethes.  “This isn’t fucking necessary, is it?  Just kill us, and stop forcing us to play your—“

Pidge cries out as they’re pushed into the sky portion of the mosaic, and Lotor chimes, “The Musician!  Oh, he’s my second favorite, you know.”

Keith spits blood onto the floor and realizes he’s bitten his tongue.  He wipes his chin, watching as Kuro raises his arms in surrender, and strides confidently towards the part of the mosaic showing wisps of purple.

“Good, Kuro,” Lotor praises.  “The Alchemist.  A fine choice, if a bit self-important.”

“Fuck you,” Kuro spits.

Lotor ignores him, and points to the last section.  Hunk stumbles over, probably nervous.  Keith wishes he could comfort his best friend, even if Hunk doesn’t want to look at him.

“And finally, the Garden,” Lotor announces.  “Altea worships him.  I don’t dislike you, Hunk, so don’t take it personally.”

Hunk doesn’t have anything to say.  The silence is too loud.  Keith can only catch Kuro’s eyes, which are now glowing yellow once more.  He finds too much comfort in them.  Where he used to feel lost, he feels found.  Then Lotor steps into his vision, and smirks at him, just as Hunk, Lance, and Pidge rise off the floor.

Keith hears the echoed choking noises of his best friends.  Lotor leans down, kneels in front of him, and tilts his face up with a single finger.  Keith is heaving breaths, gritting his teeth as he tries not to scream.  Screaming won’t do anything.  Screaming will kill them faster.  His mind races for a solution, but there is nothing.

Lotor grins in satisfaction. 

“You can change this,” he purrs.  “Be my mate, Keith.  Be mine, forever.”

Keith stops breathing.

“...Take me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is shorter but i also dumped SO much shit on you guys lmao....sorry ): if you have any questions about the lore please ask because i know it was a lot. there was no better way 2 get u thru it. i actually broke this up a lot between this chapter and the next.
> 
> hmu on twit!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY

_ Voltron exists to create and to rule.  These are His words.  Faekind do not declare the origin of the world, for it is not for them to decide.  All that was known in the beginning was His power.  Voltron demands strength.  And so He created a world to hold the weight of His descendants. _

_ Voltron and His endless power first created the Ether.  The Ether held the essence of life and death, of magic and sustainability.  The Ether held the energy Voltron possessed, dispersed through space and time.  It is everything and it is nothing. _

_ Voltron and His endless power then created the Earth.  On its surface He placed the origins of life, weaving Ether through the trees and the grass and the soil.  Voltron settled dust and smoothed rock to provide foundation for His future. _

_ Voltron and His endless power then created the Fire.  Through His fearsome anger and rage, and His encompassing fury, Voltron birthed the molten core.  The Earth was ablaze in burning embers, and the Ether sparked its kindling. _

_ Voltron and His endless power then created the Water.  To douse the flames and for natural balance, Voltron created oceans.  His Ether became controlled, and His glory ceased the war.  No longer were the Fire and Water to clash.  He demanded strength and harmony, and the Fire and Water obeyed. _

_ Voltron and His endless power lastly created the Sky.  Wind and air breathed and filled the lungs of His creation.  The Fire and Water became pure and plentiful.  The Earth was grateful to the Sky, and found its opposite a dear companion. _

_ His creations required beings to sustain for the energy would burst without release.  Voltron spread His arms, and His wrists, and His throat.  Voltron and his essence spilled across his creation.  Ether intertwined with His blood, forming Faekind.  Blood is the way of Life, as it is in death, for those who seek reformation cannot achieve solace without first providing expense.  Voltron requires payment for His debt and Faekind is the source of His Life. _

_ His beings, foolish and lacking abash, created war without His guidance.  His essence was used to cause needless suffering across his creation.  Every element suffered from the conflict.  The Earth was trampled.  The Fire burned too high.  The Water became dark and muck.  The Sky filled with traitorous smoke.  And the Ether choked without balance. _

_ Voltron graciously did not destroy his beings.  Undeserving as they were, Voltron used His endless power to peacefully divide his blood.  To guard each element, Voltron assigned warriors.  And to lead each warrior, Voltron assigned disciples. _

_ The Alchemist commanded the Ether, and was charged with directing its power.  The Alchemist created the magic of Faekind, and dispersed it across His blood.  The Ether obeyed and shattered into fragments, flowing into the delinquent lifeforce of His blood.  The Alchemist resided in Lullias, Kingdom of the Cosmos. _

_ The Garden commanded the Earth, and protected the creation.  She guided the flora to provide harvest for His delinquent lifeforce.  The Garden used her strength to provide the threads of life.  The Garden resided in Altea, Kingdom of Terra. _

_ The Scholar commanded the Fire, and captured the flames within his palms.  The Scholar rationed its power and contained its combustion.  Anger and fear became spears in the field of battle.  The Scholar demanded peace at the price of release.  The Scholar resided in Agni, the Burning Kingdom. _

_ The Winemaker commanded the Water, and quelled the defamation of the oceans.  He released the dark from the rivers and cleansed the lakes.  The Winemaker directed the Water to his liking, and gave his carefree nature to the waves and the currents.  The Winemaker resided in Galleria, Kingdom of Channels. _

_ The Musician commanded the Sky, and rid the air of smog.  Smoke was returned to the Fire and the Sky became clear.  The Musician breathed and used their kindness to return the Water to the oceans.  The Earth became nourished and clean.  The Ether thanked the Sky for harmony.  The Musician resided in Arus, Kingdom of the Clouds. _

_ Each disciple chose a being through which to speak, for disciples were not meant to exist on the plane of Faekind.  Descendants of their chosen beings carried Voltron and His word through the kingdoms.  Through their lips came the holy words of the disciples, and through their lips came the glory of Voltron. _

_ Voltron demands the strongest warrior to provide blood in his wake.  Each rotation of his gift and goddess, Luna, requires the lifeforce of Faekind.   _

_ Voltron destroyed war.  He banished the need for violence and destroyed the sake of murder.  As Voltron rules, so too does harmony.  Exile awaits Faekind who disobey His word. _

_ Such is His creation. _

* * *

Silence falls.

The others don’t understand the implications of mating.  They don’t understand the rules.  To them, this is a weird fairy ritual they can’t comprehend, and Keith is grateful for that.  He doesn’t want them to see.  He doesn’t want them to ever know.  He’s already ruined them beyond repair.

But, Kuro  _ does _ understand.  Keith watches as his expression falls and disintegrates.  Anger is replaced with fear.  Anguish.  He looks as though the breath has been stolen from his lungs.

“Keith, no,” he pleads, voice breaking on his last word.  “Lotor.  Lotor, take me.  You want me, right?  You’ve always wanted me.”

“And that was before I found your mate.”  Lotor grabs Keith’s hair and  _ pulls _ him to his feet, ignoring the human’s cry.  “Well.  Nearly your mate.  Because you haven’t done that, have you?  You haven’t gained  _ quite _ that much trust.”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Kuro snaps.  “He doesn’t want it.  He’ll never want it.”

Lotor frowns and glances at his prisoner.  Keith doesn’t want this.  He’ll never  _ want _ it, but he wants his friends to live.  He wants Kuro to live.  He wants them to escape this place and never come back, so he’ll accept whatever payment is necessary.

“You’re right,” Lotor admits.  Keith’s heart freezes.  Is it not enough?  He’s willing.  He’ll put his whole goddamn soul into fucking Lotor.  “He has too much hope.”

And Keith watches his friends choke up ruby red blood.

He kicks, attempting to break Lotor’s concentration, but it’s futile.  “You fucking--!  You said you would let them go!”

“I lied,” Lotor says.  He shrugs while Lance doubles over, and blood dribbles down his shirt.  “As long as they’re alive, you can never truly want to stay with me.”

Pidge collapses and doesn’t move.  Keith  _ screams _ nonsense, struggling, until Lotor forces him to the ground and shoves a knee into his back.  The tiles of the mosaic scratch his cheek, and all he can see is Kuro, clutching at his stomach as he retches.

Keith killed all of them.

Then, the door to the chamber slams open, and the sound echoes against the walls.

The weight on his back is gone instantly.  The sounds of dying cease, and the only evidence of pain is the stark, sick scent of iron.  Keith can’t look up fast enough.  When he rolls onto his back, he can’t stop his jaw from dropping open at the sight in front of him.  

It’s Allura.  She’s dressed in regal robes, white and gossamer, floating around her ankles as she storms through the chamber.  Her silver hair is pulled back into braids, and she looks  _ furious _ as she approaches Lotor.  Lotor, who is frozen.  He isn’t moving.  Keith almost wants to believe Allura is controlling him with her magic.

“Princess,” he stutters.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I imagine not.”  Allura only briefly glances at Kuro, and Keith wonders if the shapeshifter somehow called for her aid.  “I almost wish you had predicted my arrival.  I’m sure  _ this _ wouldn’t be part of your agenda.”

Lotor is stunned.  His immaculate brows furrow in disbelief, and he scoffs, weakly and raspily.  “Kuro--betrayed me.  He’s mine.  He’s  _ always _ been mine.”

“You made him yours,” she counters.  “Through experiments, using your despicable royal mage.”

Kuro snarls, and Keith’s stomach fills with hot anger.  Lotor  _ dared _ to use Kuro as his lab rat.  And, now?  He’s demanding adoration.  

“Don’t tell me how to run my city,” Lotor snaps.

“You’re sacrilegious,” Allura says.  “You’re only to sacrifice  _ one _ of your bravest warriors.  Where is your barbaric use of your fighting pit?”

Lotor growls and turns his back on Allura, and he snaps his head in Kuro’s direction.  The shapeshifter looks smug, and that’s when Keith realizes he definitely contacted Allura somehow when they were being captured.  Perhaps Lotor didn’t realize Kuro’s power is strong enough to do something like that.  Regardless, Keith’s heart soars for him.

“You can’t kill them,” Kuro breathes.  His lips are stained red.  “Not without a fight.  You know that.”

No one interjects with protest.  Keith glances around at his friends, who are in various stages of disarray.  Lance and Hunk look pale and fragile.  But Pidge--they’re out cold.  Keith can’t tell if they’re breathing.  His instinct is to jolt forward and check, but he doesn’t dare move.  Lotor is on edge.  Keith isn’t about to test that.

“They’re human,” Allura persists.  “Each of them, beyond Kuro.  I sense no ether in  _ any _ of them, Love.”

_ Love _ ?

Lotor flinches at the name, and whirls to face his other prisoners.  His eyes linger on Keith, and they narrow.  “I  _ want _ this one.  And I don’t  _ care _ if he’s human.”

Kuro barks a condescending laugh.  “He doesn’t want you.”

“Then  _ no one _ can have him!” Lotor shouts like a petulant child.  Allura inhales sharply, trying to keep her dignity and patience.  “You want a proper battle, Princess?  Then we’ll have one.  We’ll see how long  _ any _ of these pissant humans last in my ring.”

“At next dawn,” she compromises.  Keith stares at her incredulously.  “And you must allow them to gather and discuss strategies.”

“Strategies for how they’re going to die,” Lotor says, nodding like he’s confirming some sort of plan.  “Sounds excellent.  I’m sure they’re thrilled you intervened, Princess.  Now, instead of dying by my hand, they’ll be ripped apart by my warriors.”

Allura’s expression twitches, but doesn’t fall.  “I’m glad you see reason, Love.”

Lotor’s shoulders drop as tension fades away from his stance.  He reaches out to Allura, and Keith holds his breath, but he only strokes a strand of her hair.  Keith watches on in confusion--why is she even letting him do something like that?  Touch her, like they’re close and intimate?

“Dawn,” he confirms, before dropping his hand away.  “Guards.  Escort them all to their prison chambers.”

Then, with rigid shoulders, Lotor leaves the cathedral without looking back.

Keith  _ runs _ towards Pidge, along with Lance and Hunk.  They’re pale, motionless and bloody.  Keith feels like he can’t breathe, and then remembers to check for Pidge’s signs of life.  Lance and Hunk both appear too frozen to do it.  Keith’s hands are shaking--he hovers his hand underneath Pidge’s nose and waits.  There’s nothing.  He waits a few more seconds, feeling bile rise in his throat.

And, then, he feels the warmth of breath.

“They’re alive,” he breathes.  Kuro is above them, and the guards are approaching but he doesn’t care.  He had to know.  He had to know if they could be healed, and you can’t be healed if you’re dead.  “Barely.”

“Allura can help,” Kuro promises as the guards surround them.  No one uses physical force, but they don’t have to, with the threat of magic looming above them.  “But we have to go.”

He can’t take his eyes off Pidge as Kuro gently pulls Keith to his feet, holding him closely.  He doesn’t see anything else the entire way to Lotor’s prison chambers.

* * *

Keith almost killed them.

Allura is nursing Pidge back to health.  They’ve all settled into a cell; it’s small, but large enough to hold them all for the day while they discuss their plans.  Guards are positioned outside, and Keith hates that they can hear every word spoken.  He feels as though there’s nowhere to hide.  But Allura is powerful, and Lotor needs to ensure she’s not going anywhere.  Breaking free of this cell would spell death for them all; Allura cannot fend off an entire army.

Allura’s magic does, however, allow for them to cast a soundproofing spell over their surroundings.  Keith feels only marginally more secure, but it’ll have to do.

Kuro rubs Keith’s back as Allura uses her healing magic to help Pidge breathe.  She explains that they’ve probably sustained internal injuries from Lotor’s spell, but that they’ll be okay by tomorrow.  Not that it even matters.  As if they have the strength to sustain whatever warriors they’re going to face.

“Why were you touching him like that?” Lance croaks.  He hasn’t said anything since they were in the cathedral, and his voice is rubbed raw.  “Lotor.  Are you on his side or something?”

She glares in Lance’s direction as she gently places Pidge in a comfortable position.  “I’m his mate.”

Keith blinks.

“I thought he was  _ looking _ for one,” Keith attempts to clarify.  “And, also, what the fuck?  You like that guy enough to  _ mate with _ him?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Kuro mumbles.

Complicated.  Right.  Keith  _ barely _ understands mate bonds, and more information is being thrown at him every second.  He’s sure the others have just ceased their attempts at comprehending this bullshit.

“There was a war when Lotor’s father, Zarkon, rose to power.”  Allura settles cross-legged beside Pidge, poised and collected.  “All five of our kingdoms had been harmonized, like Voltron demanded.  But Zarkon wished for power.  He was willing to burn alliances to achieve it.  Violence and war are forbidden under our scripture, so Galleria became an enemy.

“As Keith has seen, Altea and Galleria share borders.  This is rare; Agni is far off in the desert, Arus is on the highest mountains, and Lullias is hanging in the sky.  The leaders of Altea and Galleria, Zarkon and Lyra, agreed to marry to combine our forces.”

“So, what fucked up?” Lance asks.

“I’m getting to that,” Allura snaps.  “The alliance was maintained for hundreds of years.  But Zarkon became drunk with power.  He made cruel commands of Altea, and nothing Lyra said could stop him from disobeying Voltron’s word.  A rebel force in Altea had enough of his reign, and assassinated Zarkon in his sleep.”

“I’m guessing Lotor didn’t like that,” Keith muses.

“Prince Lotor banished Lyra the moment he gained his father’s power,” she explains.  “He condemned the entirety of Altea, and closed himself off from the rest of the kingdoms.  We’re not at war, currently, but only because I still share a bond with him.”

“How are you a princess?” Keith asks.

“I’m Lyra’s daughter.”

“You fucked your  _ brother _ ?” Lance gawks.  “Jesus!”

“He is my blood only through marriage,” she corrects.  “Zarkon is not my father, and Lyra is not Lotor’s mother.  Lotor and I were betrothed from birth in order to continue the alliance.  But, now, he wants nothing to do with Altea.  So, he aims to replace me.”

“You can replace mates?” Keith asks.

“Easily,” Kuro confirms.  “And, with anyone.  That’s why Lotor didn’t care that you’re human.  Most Fae just hate humans too much to give enough of a shit to mate with them.”

“So, he’s just gonna kill us because he can’t fuck who he wants,” Hunk says.  “I mean, we’re gonna die, right?  I don’t even know how to throw a punch.”

Allura bites her lip.  “I’m afraid I’m not sure how to solve this problem.  I only wanted to buy you time.  Lotor is going to test your endurance in the ring.  He can only sacrifice the warrior in his kingdom who surpasses all others in a fight to the death.”

“It’s also easier to get rid of the humans who know too much,” Kuro says.  “I mean, it’s not like anyone would believe you about all this shit, but they like to take precautions.”

“Okay, okay,” Lance interrupts.  “What if we forfeit?”

“You want to give up?” Keith blurts.

Lance glares at him.  “I don’t see you having the fucking willpower to do anything else.”

“Fuck off,” Keith spits out of pure resentment.  “Stop talking shit about what you don’t understand.”

“Yeah, you’re so high and mighty--two weeks into this, and you’re a fucking expert?”

“Forfeiting  _ would  _ allow you to be released from the match,” Allura says, nodding to herself and interrupting the argument.  “You wouldn’t be expected to fight, and none of you care about shaming Voltron.”

She says her last words with a bit of disdain.  Keith understands that religion is a touchy subject.

“Alright, great,” Hunk agrees.  “We give up!  Done!  And then we can all go home, right?”

“No,” Kuro says darkly.  “No, he wouldn’t just let you go.  He’d give all of us to Haggar as lab rat fodder.  And, who knows?  Maybe  _ you’ll _ end up eating a few friends, too.”

Lance pales.  Keith says nothing.

“Are you just gonna sit there?” Hunk seethes, and Keith has to admit he’s never seen his friend so angry.  “He’s cracking jokes about  _ killing Shiro _ and you don’t even care!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith chokes out.  “He’s like this  _ because _ of those experiments.  If we go to Haggar, we’re not any better off.”

Kuro keeps eye contact with Allura.  His glowing gold eyes are serious, pensive.  He swallows, and then says, “The only way we’re getting out of this is if we kill Lotor.”

“How would we get close enough?” Keith asks, because such a concept is  _ ridiculous _ .  The man is simply too powerful.  “We’re gonna be in an arena.  Plus, it’s sacrilege, or whatever.”

Kuro is quiet.

“Killing one mate kills the other,” Allura whispers. 

“No,” Keith interjects as his stomach drops.  “No, we’re not killing you.  I’m not letting that be the end of this.  His guards would slaughter us, anyway.”

“Not if I do it myself.  They’d have no way to exact revenge.  Lotor’s brothers--Thace and Ulaz--are far more understanding.  With one of them in power, you can easily be set free.  They hate Lotor as much as we do.”

“No!”  Keith can’t believe he’s  _ hearing _ this.  Allura, killing herself, just to save them?  A princess dying to save a shapeshifter and four useless humans?  “Fuck!  Kuro, come on, tell her we’re not doing that!”

“We’re not doing that,” Kuro says.

“Thank you.  Fuck.”

“I’m doing that.”

Keith whirls to him.  Kuro, doing what?  Killing Allura?  Pointless.  They’d all die.

“He’d take me,” Kuro says quietly.  “If I offered myself to him, he’d take me.  And he’d still try to kill you, but then--then I could get him first, and they might let you go.”

Keith’s body goes cold.  “You’d die.  You’d have to kill yourself.”

Kuro’s expression is stone.  “I know.”

“Kuro, he wouldn’t take you,” Allura pleads.  “He’s given up on you.”

“He’s desperate,” Kuro disagrees.  “It’s worth a shot, anyway, right?  I’m not letting you die for me, Allura.  And I’m not letting him take Keith.”

“ _ No _ ,” Keith demands.  “No, I’d do it.  I’d die for you.  Let me try, Kuro,  _ please _ .”

“You have too much to live for,” Kuro says.  “You don’t truly want to be with him, Keith.  You have something here, with your friends, and so you’ll never consensually mate with him.”

Kuro gives the softest smile Keith has ever seen him make.  He reaches out and cups Keith’s cheek, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip.  Keith sees only adoration in his expression.  And regret.  

“I ruined your life,” he tells Keith gently.  “Please, let me give it back to you.”

Keith can’t speak.  

He thought they were getting somewhere.  Building something.  Kuro isn’t the murderous monster he appeared to be.  And Keith had accepted that, even learned to appreciate it beyond measure.  He doesn’t want to lose this.  He’s not really sure what  _ this _ is, but he cherishes it.  Adores it.

“I’m game,” Lance says coldly.  “Killing two murderous lunatics with one stone.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Keith bites through his tears.  “Shut  _ up _ .  You have no idea what’s going on.”

“I’ll tell the guards before dawn,” Kuro says.  “I’ll tell them that I surrender myself as Lotor’s mate.  It should buy me enough time to--to secure the bond, and kill him before he can put you in that ring.”

The rest of the day drags on, and Lance and Hunk refuse to even look at Keith.  Once this is over, they’ll walk away from him and never speak to him again.  Keith isn’t sure he’ll be able to go back to normal society.  Maybe Allura will let him live in Altea, or something.  He can’t just pretend this never happened.

He spends most of his time staring at Kuro, memorizing his face that is so similar to Shiro’s but so very different.  Kuro holds him, runs his fingers through Keith’s hair, and Keith enjoys his warmth.  His presence.  He only has a few hours left to do that.

Keith tries very, very hard not to think about Kuro bonding with Lotor.  It has to happen, of course, but he would literally die to stop it.  How will Lotor do it?  Kuro will need to fully consent.  He can’t pretend.  He has to convince himself he wants Lotor fully and unconditionally.  Keith feels his throat go raw at the thought.

They ignore the glares from Lance and Hunk, and they kiss.  It’s soft and meaningful.  Keith feels his heart soar each time, and he knows that he has to cherish these moments.  The only thing that draws them out of each other's orbit is Pidge stirring and sitting up.

“How do you feel?” Allura asks softly, and Pidge just nods.  They must be fucking exhausted after losing so much blood. 

Keith is grateful he won’t have to see them compete against any warriors.

It’s dusk (and they can only tell through a tiny sliver of a window on the back wall of the cell) when the guards come to the bars.  One opens the gate, and they stare in confusion.

“His Majesty wishes for each prisoner to have a bed chamber,” the guard announces.  

Allura looks pleased with herself.  Keith suspects the mate bond allows some sort of mental communication, because she stands first, clasping her hands together.  Bed chambers are definitely better than a prison cell.

Kuro grips Keith’s hand and tugs him close as they exit.  The bed chambers appear to be within the same building, a few floors up.  Lance, Hunk, and Pidge say nothing to them once they reach the floor.  Keith feels the icy hatred flowing from them as they retreat to their bed chambers.

They each have their own room, it seems, but Keith watches as his friends enter one together.  A guard shrugs, locks the door behind them, and stands in front.

Allura places a hand on Kuro’s shoulder and kisses his cheek.  He scoffs, turns, and gathers the princess in his arms, burying his face into her hair.  Keith sees Allura jerk with a sob, and he tries to remember how to breathe.

“You’re braver than I,” Allura tells Kuro with a tearful smile.

“You need to lead Altea,” he says.  “And you’ll be able to do that without him holding you down.  I’ll fix this.”

They exchange another embrace.  Then, Allura glares at the guards before she heads down the stairs.  Keith wonders if she’ll be at the arena tomorrow to watch Lotor die.  To watch  _ Kuro _ die.

Kuro pulls Keith into a bed chamber and gently shuts the door behind him.  Stone walls surround them, and natural light of the setting sun filters through the barred windows.  Their view shows the right paw of the cathedral and the chasm beyond, mist from the waterfalls rising into the rays of sunlight.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Keith whispers.

Kuro laughs, almost nervously.  “I don’t have much to live for, Keith.  I can’t keep you with me forever.”

Keith turns to him, and the sight of Kuro nearly brings tears to his eyes.  “I wanted you to keep me forever.”

Kuro meets his gaze.  Confused, torn.  It’s a new development in their relationship, sure; but Keith is certain.  He wants to be with Kuro, and it’s not  _ fair _ that they’re being ripped apart so soon.  Glamour be damned--if it helped them crash into one another like this, he’s thankful Kuro used it in the first place.

Keith advances, and takes Kuro’s face in his hands.  “I wish I could have been your mate.  I’m sorry we never got there.”

Kuro’s lips quirk.  “It’s not too late, you know.”

He’s right.  They could bond now.  Once Kuro bonds with Lotor, the mate ties with Keith would disappear.  No damage would be done.  And, for one night, they could be together.  They could pretend to have a forever.

“I need you,” Keith whispers.  “Kuro, mate with me.  Please mate with me.”

Kuro doesn’t need to be told twice.

In the next moment, Keith’s knees are hitting the edge of the tiny bed provided for them.  The sheets are scratchy and the mattress is lumpy, but when Keith’s back drops against the surface, he thinks it’s nothing short of perfect. 

Kuro’s mouth is on his, kissing, biting.  Keith gasps, and his breath is stolen, and Kuro takes it from him like he did the first time they were together.  It’s mind-numbing, and Keith wonders why Kuro ever used glamour in the first place.  It isn’t necessary in order for Keith to lose his train of thought.

“You’re beautiful,” Kuro breathes against the skin of Keith’s throat.  Keith whines, tilting his head to the side as he flushes.   _ Beautiful _ .  He’s not used to anyone calling him that.

“Kuro…”

The shapeshifter growls possessively, and he leaves a dark bruise in his wake.  And then another, and then another, until Keith’s neck is covered in markings.  Kuro pulls back, proud of his work.  Keith is dazed.  Lost.  Unfocused, without the help of glamour. 

He loves it.

Kuro travels down Keith’s body, pushing up his shirt.  It’s dirty and tattered, and Keith is glad to tear it off his body to throw it onto the floor.  His binder is next, and Kuro makes quick work of unhooking it and tossing it aside.  Kuro’s lips are so fucking  _ hot _ against his skin, and Keith arches, baring his torso.

“Fuck me,” Keith begs.  “Kuro, please, just  _ fuck me _ .”

“Patience,” he hears Kuro tease, and his breath is so goddamned close to Keith’s waistband.  “Can you be patient for me, baby?”

“ _ No _ ,” Keith states firmly.  He wiggles his hips until Kuro presses them down into the mattress.  “Kuro, I need you.  I need it.”

Kuro finally starts to work off Keith’s pants, and Keith whines nonsensically because Kuro is wearing  _ far _ too much clothing.  Keith’s wishes aren’t granted, however, because it appears Kuro has other ideas.

He feels a hot tongue tease at his clit, and Keith nearly shouts.  “Fuck!”

Kuro’s tongue explores him, deep and gentle.  It’s so  _ hot _ and wet, and Keith’s legs are spread wide, thighs shaking and feet flat on the bed.

“You’re so open for me,” Kuro praises.  God, his voice.  His voice during sex is too  _ much _ .  “Look at you.  You want my cock so badly, don’t you?”

“ _ Please _ .”  Keith can’t beg enough.  He’s trembling, thinking about Kuro’s thick cock inside of him, and he rolls his hips helplessly.  “Fuck me.  Mate me.”

Kuro probably would have paid more attention to pleasing Keith with his mouth, but that phrase has him surging upwards and capturing Keith’s lips.  Keith can taste himself, sweet and bitter, lacing Kuro’s tongue.

“Say it again,” Kuro begs.  “Please, say it.”

“Mate me,” Keith repeats.  “Mate me, mate me, Kuro…”

“Fuck,” Kuro whispers brokenly.  He’s hard against Keith’s thigh, and he’s  _ big _ , and it’s been a few days since he’s been inside of Keith.  Keith tugs desperately on Kuro’s shirt until it comes off, and pushes harshly at his pants.

The moment Keith can see Kuro’s cock, he pushes his hips up to meet it.  Kuro groans and ruts against the motion, sliding between Keith’s folds.  He’s so fucking hard.

“You’re so wet,” Kuro moans, marveling and staring between their bodies.  “Look at how wet you are, just from this--you’re gonna take it so well, baby.”

Keith can’t breathe.  In this moment, he forgets about everything--the battle, switching mate bonds, magic.  All of it.  He feels like this will last forever, and Kuro makes it  _ perfect _ .  

He feels the stretch of Kuro’s cock, and while it’s familiar, it’s so  _ different _ without glamour.  It’s visceral.  It even hurts a little, which he’s definitely not used to.  But Kuro can’t use any glamour to fix that, so he endures, gritting his teeth as he takes all of Kuro at once.  His nails dig into the shapeshifter’s back, and he doesn’t open his eyes until Kuro is fully sheathed inside of him.

“You okay?” Kuro asks, barely above a whisper.

Keith nods.  “Just...be careful.  Hurts.”

“I know, baby,” Kuro soothes.  “I’m sorry.  I want to take it away.”

“It’s a good hurt,” Keith promises.  “It’s real.”

They lock gazes.  Keith finds himself getting lost, once again, in the golden abysses of Kuro’s eyes.  He sees determination.  Love.  Keith drags his fingers through Kuro’s hair and grabs ahold of it.

“Move,” he says.  “C’mon.”

At first, Kuro’s thrusts are deep, and he barely moves out of Keith at all.  Keith can feel Kuro’s cock so fucking far, like it’s hitting his stomach, and he feels--

“Full,” he whimpers.  “I’m fucking  _ full _ , Kuro…”

That’s when Kuro starts to  _ fuck _ him.  The shapeshifter takes ahold of Keith’s thighs and pushes them up over his hips, and he pushes.  Thrusts into Keith so hard that the bed shakes.  It hurts, god it  _ burns _ but Keith is loving every moment of it.

“You like my cock, baby?” Kuro asks, and his voice is so dark and husky that Keith’s vision blurs.

“ _ Fuck _ , yes,” he moans.  He doesn’t care if anyone hears them.  Surely the guard is well aware of their actions, by now.  “Fuck!  Harder, Kuro--”

It’s filthy.  Dirty.  It’s so  _ them _ and Keith feels pleasure blossoming through his body.  It builds, and the more it escalates, the more Keith loses himself to the feeling of Kuro’s cock so far inside of him.

“Come inside me,” Keith pleads desperately.  “Fill me up, Kuro, please.  I need it, I need your come.”

Kuro groans, helpless to Keith’s demands.  Kuro bites hard into Keith’s shoulder, and that’s when Keith loses it.  He quickly reaches to rub at his clit as he rides out his orgasm, shouting words he doesn’t remember.

But those words must do something, because Kuro stops thrusting, and he shakes as he comes.  Keith smiles, exhausted but unbelievably satisfied, rolling his hips like he’s going to get Kuro’s seed further inside his cunt.

“I’m so full,” he moans again.  “God, you filled me up so much, Kuro.”

There’s a sharp sensation in his chest--it’s not pain, but it’s not pleasant.  Keith feels Kuro pull out of him and he flinches, both from the sensation between his ribs and the absence of his lover’s cock.

The feeling grows, branching through his veins, flowing like electricity through him until it dissipates.  So, that’s what a mate bond feels like, huh?  He can’t say he hates it.  Keith savors it and tries not to think about how he’ll never feel it again.

Kuro curls up against his back and they don’t bother with the quilt.  Keith feels Kuro’s come leaking between his folds and onto the mattress.  He’s so  _ sated _ .  It’s incredible.  Keith rolls only slightly onto his back, so he can tilt his head and kiss Kuro with all he’s got.

“I love you,” he whispers.  

There’s silence after that.  It’s tense.  Keith’s admission shouldn’t be shocking.  And, to his surprise, there’s a rush of unbridled love that courses through his system.  It’s not his emotion--it feels almost like glamour, pushing against his thoughts, but not invasively.  He realizes, then, that it’s  _ Kuro’s _ love.  He can feel what Kuro feels.

It’s so incredibly binding, and Keith wants to cry.

“I love you,” Kuro replies, warm and endearing.  And for a moment, everything is perfect.  “I love you and I’m sorry.”

“I’m happy,” Keith assures him.  “I’m happy I got to have this with you.  It’s so amazing, Kuro.”

Kuro hums in agreement and nuzzles his face into Keith’s shoulder, inhaling deeply.  “You smell like my magic.”

Keith giggles.  “What the hell does that smell like?”

“You just  _ do _ , okay, fuck off.”

But Keith knows that Kuro isn’t annoyed.  He can feel it.  It’s as though Kuro is still inside of him--the intimacy isn’t fading away in the afterglow.  It’s constant, overwhelming.  Keith is suddenly so exhausted.  After everything, after all of the bullshit, he just wants to forget.  He wants to play pretend.  He wants to have a forever.

After settling his body, he dozes off.  Throughout the night, he seems to be wavering on the edge between sleeping and waking.  He vaguely feels the brush of lips against his cheeks, the whisper of words against his skin.  

At dawn, Keith’s bed is empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i really apologize for this taking so long, and like it's kind of rushed but i just feel so bad lmao 
> 
> lemme know if you have any questions bout the lore and stuff
> 
> also hmu @hitchups
> 
> thank yall for being patient ): i have received some really kind comments and i appreciate every single one!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldnt wait
> 
> this is like, the BIG climax chapter so i'm real excited to share it. i pumped this shit out really fast cus i had so much fun writing it, and i hope it comes across that way :D

Lotor actually allows them to have a meal about half an hour before dawn.  It’s most likely Allura’s work, once again.  Keith is so hungry that he feels dizzy.  They don’t let him out of his chamber when they bring him a tray of food, which looks like a bit of poorly cooked meat and a few greens he doesn’t recognize.

He’s pretty sure the meat is undercooked because Fae have no idea how to prepare food for humans, but it’s better than nothing.

Still, Keith finds it difficult to swallow more than a few bites.  It doesn’t feel real.  His last interaction with Kuro had been stolen away by exhaustion.  He barely tastes the dry meat and he can’t tell what it is, but he doesn’t care.

If he dies today, he doesn’t mind.  His friends hate him, his best friend is dead, and his lover is soon to be taken, as well.  He’s been missing from school long enough to fail the semester.  He’s not about to jump off a bridge, but he wouldn’t protest someone pushing him over the edge.

He does not finish his meal.

Morning light washes over the scenery.  Dawn has come, and it’s cloudy and dreary.  Fitting, Keith thinks.  When the guard wrenches him off his bed by the arm, he numbly debates purposefully attacking, so they have a reason to kill him.  But, he doesn’t.

Will it hurt when his mate bond is broken?  Right now, all he feels is a dull ache that can only be described as longing to the highest degree.  He can’t  _ hear _ Kuro’s thoughts, but he can sense them, intensifying every now and then.  

_ I love you _ .

It’s implicit.  

His friends don’t meet his eyes.  But, he doesn’t care.  He needs to say  _ something _ , considering they will never speak to him again once they return home.  As they are collectively guided down some stairs and through seemingly endless corridors, Keith finally has the courage.

“I know you don’t believe me about him,” he mutters.  “But, he loves me.  It’s fucked up.  I know.”

The guard to Lance’s left scoffs.  “Love you?  He left you.  He told me that he  _ wanted _ to be Lotor’s mate, and to take him away so he could watch all of you die.”

The worst part is that Keith feels a dark chill slither down his spine.  The kindness he has seen from Kuro so very recently can’t hide his past actions.  Keith is  _ very _ familiar with Kuro’s sick smirk, his condescending laugh, and his tricks.

Would it be possible to  _ fake _ a mate bond?  Perhaps Kuro is using glamour right now to convince Keith it’s real.

Then, he feels a sense of insistent calm.  It nudges at his mind, and urges him to remember the truth.  It’s not Kuro’s fault.  It was never Kuro’s fault.  Lotor has always been the one to blame, and he absolutely deserves to pay for what he did to start this whole chain of events.

Keith hears a dull roar.  As they approach the end of the corridor, Keith sees light flooding from what looks like an open doorway.  He squints, and just when he’s about to ask, the guards push them into a tiny room.  It’s dark, but lit by torches on the wall.  These aren’t glowing magenta like the ones in the cathedral, which is a blessing, because it appears they actually need to  _ see _ .

Along the stone walls are weapons of every kind, hanging and gleaming in the torchlight.  Keith sees swords, axes, spears, and quite a few more that he doesn’t recognize.  When he turns back towards the door, he sees clothes and some kind of armor neatly assembled in piles.

“Get dressed,” a guard barks.  Keith stares at him, noting the pale purple skin of his chin.  “You have five minutes.”

The door slams shut.

“I thought Kuro was supposed to fix everything before it got this far,” Pidge says quietly from the corner of the room.

“Maybe he hasn’t gotten the chance, yet,” Keith reasons.  He knows there’s something else wrong, though; Kuro is stressed.  Keith’s pulse starts to race, and he’s not sure if it’s because of himself or Kuro.

“I bet he betrayed us,” Lance spits.  He strides towards a pile of clothes and armor, examining the thin fabric.  The armor’s metal doesn’t look any more stable.  “He’s playing you, Keith.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”  Though, he is grateful that Lance is speaking his mind rather than staying silent.  Keith bites his lip as he, too, holds the clothing up against his body.  “He didn’t want to hurt Shiro.  He doesn’t want to hurt anyone--he just has to eat like the rest of us.”

It’s quiet for a few moments while Keith undresses.  He feels a sharp pang in his chest, remembering the last time he disrobed and what came after.  Ignoring the feeling, he pulls on the provided pants.

They’re tan in color, baggy, and loose around the knees where they cut off.  Keith secures them with a leather belt.  The top is a similarly colored tunic, and wraps have been provided, likely to protect their wrists and hands from blisters.

“I can’t believe I’m putting on fairy armor,” Hunk mutters.  He slips the bronze-plated chestplate over his head and Pidge fastens the sides.  “We’re not even gonna fight.  Like, what’s the point?”

“To be convincing,” Keith says.  Curiously, the gauntlets seem to shrink to size the moment Keith gets them into place.  “We can’t walk out there naked and expect to not draw attention.”

“We aren’t supposed to be walking out there at all,” Hunk says.  “What’s taking him so long?”

Keith can’t answer.  He still feels the bond.  He still feels Kuro and his anxiety, although he can’t understand whether it’s over dying or something else.  It’s painful.  

He assumes they’re supposed to choose a weapon off the wall, even though they’ve never actually  _ used _ weapons like these, before.  Keith took fencing classes as a kid, but that’s about the extent of his knowledge.  Still, he takes one of the swords.  It seems to be perfectly balanced, and it’s simple enough that he knows the Galra don’t spend too much time focusing on the safety of their gladiators.

Hunk chooses a double-sided axe, but looks very apprehensive about it as he weighs it in his hands.  Lance chooses one of the spears, and Keith would make a pun, but he’s sure Lance would run him through if he so much as speaks.  Pidge picks two knives, and they look very sharp, but Keith doesn’t trust them at close range.

It seems too soon when the door opens once more, and guards usher them outside.  They’re fully dressed and armored, but Keith couldn’t feel any more vulnerable.  He’s getting fucking  _ nervous _ .  He doesn’t give a shit about his own life--it’s not as though he has much of one to begin with.  But, his friends?  If Kuro doesn’t do what he’s meant to do, they could die.

Keith won’t let that happen.  He’s not really sure how, but he’s determined.

A guard shoves him towards the opening, and he turns to scowl.  “I’m fucking going.”

“Didn’t say you could talk, human,” says the guard, and then Keith gets a rather strong punch to the face.

“Jesus!” Pidge shrieks.  Keith sees white and he tastes iron and steel.  He quickly grabs ahold of Pidge and tries to steady himself using their shoulders, but the guards nearly kick them forward.

“I’m okay,” he tells Pidge quietly.  “Focus on yourself.”

He’s only just starting to see clearly again when they step into the arena.  Keith knew it would be huge, just like everything else in this city, but he had been underestimating.  It looks like a Roman colosseum, with dirt flooring, completely clear of obstacles.  Nowhere to hide.

And in the stands, Keith sees  _ thousands _ of Fae.  After the mandatory emptiness of the streets when they first arrived, Keith can hardly comprehend it.  The Galra are...strange.  Some have furry ears like a cat’s.  Some have glowing eyes like Kuro.  Keith feels a pang in his chest--it’s Kuro.  

Fuck.  Fuck, can he see them?

Keith whirls around until he sees a spectator’s box jutting out from the crowd.  It’s decadent, and a violet drape protects the throne underneath from the harsh sunlight.  Keith squints.  He doesn’t see Lotor or Kuro.  The throne is empty.  

Then, the opening behind them slams shut with a deafening sound that causes all four of them to jump back.  An eerie silence falls over the crowd.

And that’s when Lotor shows his face.

He stands at the front of the spectator’s box, and opens his arms in a universal welcoming gesture.  “Good morning, citizens of Galleria!”

There is no response.  Don’t speak when spoken to.  Not a single one of the Galra even flinches.

“Today, you’re seeing a battle involving four humans,” he explains.  “An interesting sight!  Though, as it happens, I won’t be sending my usual warriors to fight this match.  It seems like a waste of their energy.”

“Fucker,” Lance mumbles.

“What is he talking about?” Keith wonders with an edge to his tone.  No warriors?  Isn’t that the  _ point _ of this battle?  To find the strongest warrior for sacrifice?

“These humans, one in particular,  _ stole _ something very precious to me,” the prince continues.  “But, this morning, it has rightfully been returned to me.”

Kuro is not in the spectator’s box.  Keith’s anxiety must be overwhelming them both, because he can’t feel anything from Kuro’s end.  

“As we know, His Word tells us that we do not kill simply to murder,” Lotor says, and Keith knows he’s speaking directly to him.  “But, I think an attempted assassination is certainly reason for gruesome punishment.  Don’t you agree?”

The crowd erupts.  Keith feels his blood run cold, and Kuro’s sick fear floods his skin.  

He didn’t take the bait.

He figured it out.

“Uh?”  Lance steps closer to Keith as the crowd starts to rhythmically pound their feet, like fans before a sporting match.  “Fuck?!”

“You might have been able to survive, Keith,” Lotor chastises from far above them.  “You were being fairly tested, and you thought you could outsmart me?  Voltron allows the death of those who attempt to harm a prophet.  This isn’t murder.  It’s justice.”

Keith is numb.  How many experiments is Lotor going to throw at them before they finally succumb to one?  How many horrors are going to be the last things his friends ever see?

“I’m sorry,” Keith breathes, barely heard over the spectators.  “I’m sorry for Shiro, I’m sorry for not coming home, I’m sorry for everything.”

He feels Hunk’s hand on his shoulder; it’s warm, but shaking.  His voice trembles.  “We came looking for you, man.”

“I’d rather be with you than let you be alone,” Pidge confirms.  They’re tearing up, but it’s hard to truly understand how they’re feeling when their expression is so stone cold.  “I’m sorry, too.”

Keith turns to Lance, vision swimming.  Lance finally meets his eyes.  The warm brown gaze of his best friend softens for the first time in two days.

“I always said I’d never let you die without me,” Lance says softly.  Keith’s breath catches.  “I love you, man.  I know it’s not your fault.”

There’s an unholy shriek that rings throughout the stadium, and Keith’s eyes blow wide.  He knows that sound.  Fuck, he could never forget that hellish, nightmarish noise.  And, before the gate on the other end of the coliseum opens, he already knows what’s about to come out.

“What the fuck is that?!” Pidge shouts, stepping behind Keith.  Out of the darkness, he sees the tips of two horns and bright, illuminating eyes.

“Wendigo,” he stutters.

It doesn’t rush them.  It exits its cave, jerking forward with jittery, unnatural motions.  Its head tilts.  The sunlight seems to turn to night around the creature, as if it is sucking life from the air.  Its limbs move almost cartoonishly, choosing random directions; its mouth opens and closes, exposing the black void inside.

His friends don’t move or speak, and it’s probably because they’re fucking terrified.

Keith grips his sword.  He’s tired of seeing this bitch.

He has no idea what he’s doing--sword fighting is a little different than fencing--but he  _ does _ know that running forward and using the pointy end to stab things is how you kill with a sword.  The wendigo screeches, and Keith wonders if that’s its only actual defense.  He ignores the pounding of his heart, and Kuro’s suffocating anxiety.  

It slashes its hand out to scratch at him, but he  _ dodges _ , and he has no idea how the  _ fuck _ he does it.  It’s almost like muscle memory, and he doesn’t have to think when he slides on his knees, bends until the wendigo’s claws are just out of reach, and rolls to his feet.

Kuro’s stunned silence rings through his mind.  But he has no time to dwell.

Before the wendigo can turn around to properly face him, Keith hops out of the way, using its back as momentum to swing to its immobile left side.   _ Christ _ , its body is cold.  Freezing, enough to feel like Keith has burned his hand.  But, despite that, he swings.

His arm carries the weight of the sword almost  _ too _ naturally.

And he slices the wendigo’s throat, black blood spilling over the dirt and coating his boots.

The crowd does not cheer.

Keith’s mind spins.  He stares between the dead body of the cryptid and his bloody sword.  Shaking, he steps back.  He did that.  The wendigo’s eyes are bleak and unseeing, and its elongated fingers twitch before going still.  He did that.

He fought that.

“Send out Ahuitzotl!” Lotor’s voice booms across the space.

Keith jogs back to his friends, who are staring at him in awe.  He shakes his head, baffled.  “I have no fucking idea.”

“That was...amazing?  Terrifying?”  Hunk’s expression would be hilarious in any other situation.  “How the fuck…?”

“Guys,” Pidge interrupts.  They’re pointing towards the dark cave where the wendigo entered.  Coming out of the darkness is a human hand.  A normal, unassuming hand.

“What’s an Ahui-whats-ol?” Lance asks, not taking his eyes off of it.

“ _ Ahuitzotl _ ,” Pidge corrects, and this time, their voice is laced with fear.  “It’s basically a demon that lives in rivers, lures you to it with the sound of a baby crying, and eats your eyes.”

“Thank you, cryptid expert,” Keith snaps.  “Could have  _ really  _ used you the past few weeks, when I was trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.”

“I told you it was useful research!”  Pidge waves their hand at the wendigo’s dead body.  “And you made fun of me!”

“ _ Guys _ !”

Lance is staring at the hand, which is not attached to an arm.  It’s at the end of a long, furry tail that slithers from the darkness.  What follows is the body of a panther, with a spiked spine and sharp ears.  It growls, and two rows of razor teeth drip with saliva onto the dirt.  Ahuitzotl nudges the dead wendigo out of the way, hisses in its direction, before turning its attention towards the four humans.

Keith raises his arm to swing when Ahuitzotl rushes them, but he’s quickly overpowered.  The hand on the tail  _ grips _ his sword’s blade like it’s  _ nothing _ and tears it from his grasp.  It screams like an infant when the metal thuds in the dirt, fifty yards away.

The tail whips at them, and they have to dive in opposite directions to avoid it.  Keith rolls out of the way when it targets him, and Ahuitzotl digs its claws into the dirt when it attempts to strike Pidge.  They strike with their knives, clumsily and without any skill, and Ahuitzotl slaps them away.

In the next moment, it snaps Lance’s spear with a flick of its tail, and it gets close enough to steal Hunk’s axe away.  Keith can already see what’s happening--time slows as he sees Ahuitzotl focus its beady black eyes on Lance’s fallen form.  The axe is poised effortlessly in its hand, and it’s high in the air, ready to strike.

Several things happen at once.

Pidge and Hunk scream for Lance, who is frozen in place.  Ahuitzotl screeches, Keith scrambles to his feet, and he has a few seconds to dash forward.  He wants to push Lance out of the way, maybe even lay himself in the line of attack, but he can already see he’s not fast enough.  The axe is coming down, and he’s too far away.

In short succession, a sharp, poignant pain blooms in his chest.  It doesn’t hurt--it feels like an excess of pure adrenaline, sweeping through his blood, and it’s  _ hot _ .  It’s molten and burning, stirring inside of him like the magma at Earth’s core.  When he screams--” _ Lance!” _ \--he feels as though he could vomit flames.

Without thinking, he stands in place and thrusts both of his palms in the direction of Ahuitzotl.

The sound of a roaring explosion is birthed from his body, and Keith clenches his eyes shut against the overwhelming, blinding light.  He hears the pained, dying screams of Ahuitzotl, and the crackling of its skin, and the steam coming from its boiling insides.  A whirlwind circles his body, and he grits his teeth to stay grounded, and the gust of air turns warm and burning hot before dissipating entirely.

Keith cracks his eyes open.  Before him, he sees the charred remains of Ahuitzotl.  Flames and fire are dwindling, but follow a trail to his feet.  Keith stares at his palms, and watches as pools of scoria sink into his skin, flowing into his veins that glow a bright amber before fading away to nothing.

He just did magic.

“ _ Capture them!  Restrict him! _ ”

As guards rush into the stadium towards his friends, Keith realizes that he can’t cast anything on command.  He feels nothing, now; no curling kindling in his stomach.  Before he can truly comprehend anything at all, Keith’s hands are tugged behind his back.  He feels icy metal against his wrists, containing them.  Kuro’s confusion, fear, awe--it hits him like a tidal wave.

And, then, they’re being guided out of the coliseum.  Keith is avoiding the eyes of his friends, keeping them down on the ground beneath his feet.  He can’t face them.  Can’t look at them.  What the fuck.  What the  _ fuck _ just happened.

Keith hasn’t seen any magic like that, yet.  He’s seen glamour.  He’s seen a few sleight of hand tricks.  But he hasn’t seen mammoth explosions set off from anyone’s palms.  He hasn’t seen  _ any _ kind of tangible, real spell magic.  So, what?  What the fuck did he just do?

Is this why Lotor is so interested in him?  Could he sense it?  Allura couldn’t--she said so, herself.  Kuro obviously didn’t.  And Keith looks down at his chest, because the same feeling occurred when he sealed the mate bond with Kuro.  The same rising, twisting sensation that spread through his body.  Is that magic?

He dissociates within his thoughts until they’re practically kicked into a large, ornate room.  There’s a throne at the other end, doused in sunlight coming in through towering windows.  A plush and decorative carpet, with intertwining designs, leads the way.  Keith is dizzy, disoriented, and he has to blink a few times before he recognizes Kuro’s form by the throne.

“Kuro,” he chokes.  “Kuro--”

He stumbles forward.  He can’t even describe the sensation of soaring through the clouds when Kuro moves too fast to see, just to catch him before he falls to the ground.  He wishes so badly that he could cling to the shapeshifter, that he could beg for Kuro to take them back to the cave.  Their cave.  

“What’s happening to me?” he whispers, hoping Kuro is the only one who can hear.  It’s then that Keith realizes he’s crying, albeit silently.  “What did I do?”

His knees buckle.  Kuro follows him to the ground, gathering Keith into his arms.  Keith feels a strong arm around his torso, and a pleasantly warm chest he can press his face into.  Kuro smells like home.  He feels safe.  Complete.

Then, Lotor is there.  He’s snapping his fingers, and the guards put knives at his friends’ throats.  Keith lurches, attempting to jump at Lotor, but Kuro holds him back.  Lotor’s eyes are burning, his expression feral.

“You  _ snake _ ,” he seethes.  “A child of Agni, in  _ my _ city?  How did you  _ hide it from me _ ?”

“I didn’t hide anything,” Keith sobs, panic rising in his throat.  “I don’t know what I--I didn’t know I could do that.”

Agni.  He can’t remember what that is.  So much information has been thrown at him, and Allura’s tale is but a distant memory.  All he knows is that he needs to calm Lotor’s anger, needs to protect his friends.  Somehow.  There has to be a way.

He wishes all of this were a dream.  He wishes none of it ever happened.  He knows he can’t live without Kuro, but he selfishly wonders if it’s worth the price.  His mate bond stabs him, twisting a knife in his heart--of course it’s worth it.  Of course.  They’ll always come back to one another.

Always.

Lotor shoves Kuro away and grabs Keith by his hair, yanking him up so that they’re face-to-face.  Keith screams, mostly out of frustration.  Lotor sneers, like he’ll be able to intimidate something out of Keith.

“Anvaya wanted peace, so she sent me  _ you _ ,” Lotor spits out.  “Is this her idea of harmony?  Sending a halfa brat to do her bidding?”

“What the  _ fuck _ are you talking about?” Keith asks viciously, through gritted teeth as his voice cracks.  “Who the hell is Anvaya?!”

Lotor tosses him to the ground and Kuro exclaims his worry, rushing to Keith’s side.  Keith’s shiner stings as it slams against the floor, and Lotor kicks him in the stomach.  “What are the humans for, then?  Why did you bring  _ them _ into the mix?”

“We’re his  _ friends _ .”  Lance struggles against the guards, glaring with everything he has.  “And we’d still die for him.  It doesn’t have to be in an arena.”

Despite everything, Keith feels some of the weight lift away.

Lotor barks a laugh.  “Your friend?  Your  _ friend _ just did some of the most powerful elemental magic I’ve ever seen.  And the only reason you aren’t dead is because it gives me an advantage, you  _ stupid _ ape.”

“Please let them go,” Keith begs.  “They have  _ nothing _ to do with this.  I’ll do what you want.  I don’t care anymore, just...please.”

He would do anything just to make them forget.  He wishes they could be wiped clean, sent back home, so they could finish their homework and go to class and  _ live _ .  Keith can’t have that, anymore--it’s not too late for them.

Keith feels like his skin is too small.  He groans, and Kuro cups his face.  Keith doesn’t want to open his eyes.  There’s  _ pressure _ .  Too much pressure.  It threatens to break him.  He’s going to crack open, and he can  _ feel it _ .

“Humans who know everything about my existence?  My culture?”  Lotor laughs again, almost hysterical.  “At  _ best _ , they’ll be slaves.  You’ve already ended their lives.  You can save their souls by telling me  _ why _ Anvaya sent you to me.”

“I don’t know who the fuck that is,” Keith insists, jaw tight.

“Assassination,” Lotor exclaims, as though he’s finding connections.  “I suspected Allura, but...no.  No, it’s not her, is it?  She’s not the one who wants to kill me.”

“I want to kill you, dumbass.”  Kuro is speaking, but to Keith, it sounds like he’s underwater.  There’s a loud ringing in his head.  Keith’s breathing quickens.  “You’re insane.  You’re fucking insane.”

“Shut up,” Keith whimpers.

He has to fix this.  He has to make this right.  Fuck, how can he do this?  Magic?  He doesn’t even--the most powerful--?

Keith focuses on making them  _ forget _ .  Making Lotor forget his threats, making his friends forget about Fae.  He feels the magic inside of him bubbling to the surface, churning, like the threshold just before an orgasm.

“What are you doing?” Lotor snaps.  “What is he doing?”

“Keith?” Kuro shakes him, trying to bring him out of his concentration.  Keith shoves him away, falling onto his hands and knees.

There’s silence.  And then, a gasp, from Lotor, just as Keith feels himself tumbling over an edge.

“Kill him!   _ Kill him _ !”

Keith screams, and blinding light like the center of a galaxy envelops him.  He feels the world shatter around him, feels his mind lose grasp of reality like a fading dream.  

Then, everything goes dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW SOME OF YOU SAW THAT COMING lmao yall are too smart for me. but for those who DIDNT see it coming, i hope i seem really impressive right now
> 
> this one's a bit shorter but only cus i had a specific outline for it since the beginning and it HAD to end on this note. i know, cliche fade to black cliff hanger. this fic is self indulgent and is allowing me to be FREE and do ALL the cliches i want.
> 
> i wanna say there's like......3 chapters left? SO YEA we are approaching the end my friends and hopefully it goes well from here.
> 
> HMU ON TWITTER LADS


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yeah im just gonna drop the rest of this for you guys cus i powered through it lmao

Keith wakes up with a headache.  His alarm blares, and he fumbles for his phone underneath of his pillow.  His shitty lightning cable, fraying and particular, causes the device to buzz in and out of charging mode.  Finally, he taps the alarm away, and falls back against his bed.

Christ.  What day is it?  He feels like he’s been beaten to death, revived, and then injected with lead.

He stretches and tries to pretend that time isn’t ticking away before he finally swings his legs over the side of his bed.  It feels off.  Like looking in a mirror.  Nothing is different, and he chalks it up to a bad dream that he can’t remember.  He feels hot, though.  Feverish.  He’s pretty sure he can’t miss any more classes and he can’t recall the reason for that.

He gives his room another once over, just to be sure.  There’s a weird picture hanging on his wall over his desk that he pays special attention to.  It shows himself standing in front of the sign for Disneyland.  But, he’s standing alone, pointing at no one.  Where the fuck did that picture even come from?

Keith wonders what he was drinking before he passed out last night.

Mechanically, he brushes his teeth.  He feels like he hasn’t done so in ages.  Simultaneously, he scrounges through his dresser, only to see that his favorite binder is missing.  He frowns, toothbrush hanging from his lips.  He does a quick spin around his room and can’t find it anywhere, and his shoulders fall.  He knows he hasn’t washed it--his laundry is completely done and there’s nothing in the hamper.

It’ll turn up.  He plucks a different one instead, and proceeds with making himself presentable.

By the time he leaves his apartment, he’s got fifteen minutes to make it to class.  It’s a ten minute walk.  Groaning, he picks up the pace, and he shields his eyes against the rising sun.  

Then, he loses his breath--a feeling of desperation, of anguish, of  _ loss _ explodes inside of him.  It causes him to double over, and his vision swirls.  Gasping, he braces himself against a street lamp.  Fuck, what  _ was _ that?

The feeling fades.  The ringing in his ears dissipates along with it.  He’s mildly paranoid, now, and takes his time walking to class, legs shaking.

The professor hasn’t  _ quite _ started the lecture by the time he arrives, and he’s sneaking into the hall through the back door.  Quickly, he finds Lance in his usual spot.  He squeezes through the row of seats and plops down next to his best friend with a sigh.

“Man, I feel fuckin’ weird today,” he says, in favor of a typical greeting.  “Did I text you anything?  Was I drunk?”

Lance has an odd expression on his face.  It’s one of confusion, concern, and amusement.  “Uh, no.  I thought you were still resting.”

Keith blinks.  “Resting?”

“Yeah, from your surgery,” Lance says.  And, when Keith narrows his eyes in confusion, Lance gives a nervous laugh.  “Your appendectomy?  You’ve been out of commission for like, two weeks?”

Okay,  _ what _ .

Keith would remember major fucking surgery.  It’s not the same as forgetting a binder or being almost late to class.  Those are just weird, daily occurrences he’s not entirely used to.  Fucking surgery?  Getting an organ removed from his body?  Yeah, that would stick out in his memory quite a bit.

Shit, he can’t let Lance know he’s freaked out.  What if he’s having serious recollection issues, or something?  If he’s had surgery, is that a side effect?  Okay.  Yeah, he’ll go to the nurse later.  He bites his lip, nods and pretends like he understands.

“Yeah,” he agrees wistfully.  “Yeah, sorry.  I’m just out of it, today.”

“You gotta turn in that doctor’s slip, by the way,” Lance reminds him, flipping open his notebook.  “Explain the complications and shit.  So no one marks you absent and tries to fail your ass.”

Keith can’t help the way his heart jumps.  “Shit, yeah.”

Lance shrugs.  “I let your professors know, though.  Just to make sure.”

“Thanks man,” Keith breathes, just as the class begins.  “You saved my ass.”

“As I often do,” Lance says back, smirking.

Something in Keith’s chest constricts and he doesn’t know why.

The rest of the morning passes him by in a blur, and Keith barely pays attention to any lecture.  By the time it’s free hour, and he’s meeting up with his friends, he already feels like he’s missing something  _ important _ .  He probably missed a project or something.  He’ll check when he gets home, because he doesn’t have any outstanding emails that indicate extra work.

Even though Keith feels like he woke up in a different dimension, his friends are totally normal.  He breathes a sigh of relief--at least they’re not aware of the confusion, the fear.  Keith even smiles with Lance cracks a joke, and when Pidge chastises him for it.

Keith allows himself to believe that he’s just being paranoid.

And, then, he sees a fucking  _ wolf _ .

Just beyond the quad, standing at the treeline to the forest, is a  _ huge _ jet-black wolf.  There’s no mistaking it.  It’s not a dog.  Wolves don’t even live in their area, he’s pretty sure.  Keith stares, long enough for the wolf to turn towards him.  Its eyes  _ glow _ a bright yellow, and he gasps.  Before he can say anything to his friends, the wolf turns and dashes into the trees.

“You okay, buddy?” Hunk asks cautiously.  “Man, maybe you shouldn’t come back, yet.  Take a few more days to rest, yeah?”

“You had some pretty serious complications,” Pidge confirms.  “It’s weird for an appendectomy, y’know.  I’m kinda confused how they fucked up.”

Keith shakes his head, barely hearing their words.  “I’m fine.  I--sorry.  Thought I saw something.”

He makes it through the rest of free hour in a daze.  After his next and last class of the day, Keith heads into the nearest bathroom with an ache in his temples.  He waits until the last boy leaves, just to make sure.  Just to ensure he’s not insane, because this has been on his mind ever since Lance said the word  _ appendectomy _ .  Maybe Keith didn’t look properly this morning.  Maybe he wasn’t paying attention, or his mind chose to ignore it.

But, when he raises his shirt, there is no scar.  No incision marking any kind of surgery.  He  _ knows _ where the fuck they cut you open when they take out your appendix.  It should be obvious, especially if there were complications that made him stay home for  _ two fucking weeks _ .

Keith didn’t  _ have _ an appendectomy.  He lets his shirt fall and stares at himself in the mirror, as though he’s expecting something else to be looking back.  He swallows, trying not to scare himself--two weeks.  Two weeks of nothing.  The last thing he remembers is getting into the car with--

A  _ debilitating _ pain in his chest and in his mind cause him to shout, double over and nearly hit his forehead on the sink.  He sees stars, filtering his vision.  He feels punished.  Reprimanded for trying to remember, and he can’t.  He can’t remember.  The more he thinks about it, the further back his memory goes.

Now, the last thing he can remember is being at free hour on a Friday, feeling uneasy, standing and moving towards the trashcan when he looks back and sees...an owl?  A black owl, perching on the seat next to his, and he’s standing next to the trashcan, staring and trying to accept what he’s seeing.

Then, nothing.  A solid blank space, until he woke up this morning.

Keith slowly opens his eyes.  The bathroom is dead silent, aside from the sound of a dripping faucet and the dulled murmur of students in the hall.

He feels incomplete.  That’s the only thing he can think as he walks home, barely seeing the world around him.  His legs move automatically, carrying him up the steps of his apartment and into his kitchen.  He lives in a one bedroom, and he remembers being surprised that his scholarship gave him enough living expenses to afford more than a studio.

That feels so pedantic, now.  Unnecessary information.

He glances around the room.  Everything seems normal.  Dishes in the sink, school papers on the island.  He doesn’t know what he’s expecting.  He must have been here during his lapse in memory.  Christ, does he have a brain tumor or something?  Two weeks is an inordinate amount of time to lose.

And then he sees something bright yellow that doesn’t belong.  It’s on the floor.  Some papers have fallen, likely due to the gust of wind coming from his open window.  Slowly, Keith approaches.

The yellow is a plastic evidence marker.  

He crouches.  Picks it up in his hand.  He turns it over.  Black, bold letters read  _ 24 _ even though there are no other markers around him.  It’s sitting on top of a receipt, accompanied with a scribbled note.

The receipt is for a camping tent, he notices, from Target.  It was $39.99.  The scribbled note is on a green post-it, and Keith holds it with shaky hands.

_ Pay me with Paypal, because I know you don’t have cash. :P _

_ -Shiro _

Shiro.

Keith drops the note, numb.  He stands, steps back, and tries to stop himself from breathing so heavily that it makes him pass out.  He doesn’t know who Shiro is, but he feels like he  _ needs _ to know.  Needs to remember, for some reason, and he can’t figure out why.

A tugging sensation in his chest--it tells him to leave it alone.  Don’t chase the white rabbit.  For his own good, for his own safety, for his  _ life _ , take the blank memories and consider it a blessing.

He can’t.  He can’t do that.

Something outside catches his eye.  There’s no forest behind his apartment--it’s a concrete jungle.  Apartments fading into cul de sacs.  But, standing in the dirty alley, is the wolf.  Staring at him.  Keith can’t take his eyes away, heart pounding, lungs constricted.  What really gets his attention, however, is when two teenagers with skateboards stroll down the alley and  _ walk through it _ .

It keeps eye contact with Keith for a few more moments, before standing, and trotting away.  But, not before it glances back, as though beckoning Keith to follow.  He doesn’t need another indication.

Keith doesn’t even take his keys with him.

He grabs his bike from the downstairs rack and pedals out, searching for the animal.  He’s about to feel like a total dumbass before he spots it--its fur nearly shimmers in the sunlight.  In fact, they’re losing the day, but Keith doesn’t care about being caught in the night with this wolf and he doesn’t know why that thought isn’t terrifying.

It’s evident that no one else can see this wolf.  Even though it’s taller than Keith on his bike, and its stride is so large that Keith has to pedal harder to keep up, no one pays it any attention.  Keith manages to stay a few feet behind the wolf as he follows it beyond the development.  Beyond the small confines of the college town.

It’s been a solid thirty minutes, and Keith realizes he’s on an isolated two-lane highway.  On either side, the forest surrounds him, and he starts to hear the tell-tale sign of dusk; chirping crickets, cries of birds.  And, still, he’s not afraid.  The wolf comforts him, somehow.  

Finally, the wolf turns off of the pavement and into a makeshift parking lot.  There’s no sign, but there is a gate indicating that there is a trail into the forest beyond this point.  Keith eyes it warily.  There is only one vehicle in the parking lot.  It’s an unassuming sedan, and Keith tries to tell himself it’s irrelevant.  

The wolf keens to get his attention, and Keith’s head snaps back to the gate.  With a nod, he begins to pedal once more.  It’s been at least an hour, and he’s exhausted from such a long day of confusion, but it can’t be helped.  His curiosity is too wild.  He’s about ninety percent sure he isn’t hallucinating.

Twilight is even darker under the cover of the trees, and Keith feels like they’re being followed.  He continually glances around his surroundings and sees nothing--not even deer, not even crows.  Nothing.  And, when he comes upon a camping site in a clearing, Keith’s breath halts entirely.

He dismounts his bike and it falls to the ground.  The wolf doesn’t move.  Keith only steps forward because he sees something glint in the dying light underneath the leaves.  It’s glowing.  

Next to an abandoned fire circle, Keith kneels.  He brushes away the dirt and debris to find a knife--its handle is wrapped in cloth.  Keith unravels it to reveal the source of light.  It’s a bright magenta insignia, faintly pulsing.

Keith remembers so fast that he nearly retches.

It’s a rush like he’s never felt.  Suddenly, every memory is back within him, swirling inside his mind until they align themselves into place.  He dropped this knife, when Kuro took over his mind for the first time, and used glamour to seduce him into captivity.  Kuro kept him, but protected him, shielded him from--

\--Lotor.

Keith freezes.  It’s so obvious.  All this  _ fucking  _ time, it’s been so obvious.  

_ They will never stop looking for you _ .

He’s never felt magic like this, before.  The knife thrums in his hand, nearly vibrating with power, and it occurs to him that he’s never bothered to unwrap the hilt.  He’s never really used this knife, after all.  Never really had to.  He’s kept it in his dresser, until he decided last-minute to bring it along for their camping trip, in case he needed it.  Until he wanted to protect himself from Kuro.

It’s the only thing he has from his mother.

_ This _ is what Lotor used to find him.  This energy.  Keith’s magic was dormant or something, and no one could  _ sense  _ it.  Not Kuro, not Allura.  Not even Lotor.  But, the moment Keith entered this forest with energy this strong, it caught Lotor’s attention.

He was  _ investigating _ .  The wendigo.  The face among the trees.  They were sussing him out.  Trying to examine him.  Lotor only showed up to the cave after he had a good enough idea of Keith’s lack of ability.  He might not have been seen as a threat, but he  _ was _ seen as a tool against Kuro, until Lotor decided Keith was the  _ real _ prize.

Kuro.  The wolf.  The wolf was Kuro, the bond with Kuro, leading him back.

Keith jerks to the side to find the wolf, but it’s gone.  Disappeared.  And Keith is alone, in Lotor’s territory, practically reeking magic from every pore.  He can feel it, like electricity crackling between his fingertips.  And, like the tug of a rope around his waist, he feels the mate bond dragging his feet forward.

He needs to find his mate.  

Keith  _ runs _ after the sensation, even though he has no idea where Galleria is and no idea how far away it might be.  Night has nearly blanketed the forest, and he knows the chance of running into a cryptid is too fucking high for him to feel comfortable.  And, he’s pretty sure his uncontainable fire magic that he used against Ahuitzotl isn’t going to spell anything good for dry leaves in a dense area.

He still has his phone in his pocket.  While he moves, he pulls it out, and thanks everything in the universe that he has service.  He opens his messages with Lance and texts him.

_ don’t worry about me.  mite be out of it for a few days but i’ll be ok.  i’ll explain everything later. _

Hopefully, Lance won’t come looking for him, this time.

When he puts his phone away and prepares himself to run again, he catches sight of something in the distance.  It’s nearly pitch black, but he can see motion, with the moonlight just barely reflecting off the surface.  Keith’s heartbeat pounds in his ears, and he watches as something with a head shaped like a snout on three legs rises unnaturally above the brush.

Keith isn’t about to take this shit.

“Hey!” Keith shouts.  He grips his knife tightly, and it glows enough to light up the area surrounding him.  “You can tell Lotor he can go  _ fuck _ himself.”

The thing screeches, and then it’s charging him, faster than should be possible.  Keith doesn’t flinch.  He pushes his hand into the air, creating a gust strong enough to slice through nearby, low-hanging branches.  It knocks the thing off its feet, and it struggles, but it can’t even attempt to get up before Keith is on top of it.

“I guess you won’t get a chance to do that,” he says through gritted teeth.  The light from the insignia on his knife shows that the thing has a head shaped like a mole’s, attached to two heron legs, with a kangaroo’s tail struggling to whip around until Keith stomps on it.  “Jesus.  What the fuck are you, anyway?”

It doesn’t matter what it is.  He can’t risk it getting back to Lotor.  Plus, it tried to kill him.  Keith growls and slices the thing’s head off with ease, and he marvels at how sharp the knife actually is.

He doesn’t have time to celebrate before he hears a familiar voice call his name.

“Keith?”

Oh, shit.  Keith scrambles to his feet, covered in black blood.  Before him is Allura--but she’s not dressed like a princess, tonight.  Her hair is wrapped in a neat braid, and she’s wearing a tight, sleeveless tunic.  Her skirt is shorter than usual, flowing just above her knees.  She’s emitting an aura, white and beautiful.  Keith’s never been more thankful to see anyone in his life.

“Allura,” he breathes.  “Shit, okay.  What happened?  What’s happening?  I--I woke up back home, and I didn’t remember anything, but--”

She grabs his hand, as if to ground him.  He meets her cerulean gaze and she looks  _ terrified _ .  “We need to get to Galleria.”

“I was trying,” Keith says quickly.  “I don’t know the way.  I was following my mate bond, but--”

She blinks.  “Mate bond…?”

Fuck.  No one else knows about it.  Even Lotor probably isn’t aware of the connection Kuro and Keith share.  Allura knew they were planning for it, but never knew they actually  _ sealed _ it.

“The night before the match,” he explains.  “We figured that he was going to be mated with Lotor anyway, so we’d...we’d have that one night together.”

Before Allura can respond, they hear another screech close by.  Keith can’t see where it’s coming from, but Allura glares in its direction, and Keith hears the pained wail of some cryptid further in the forest.  

“We have to get there,  _ now _ .”  She hardens her expression, and bites her lip.  “Do you trust me?”

“Do I have a reason not to?”

She doesn’t answer.  Instead, there’s a flash of light, similar to what Keith saw in the last moments inside of Lotor’s throne room.  He covers his eyes with his arm, shielding himself, but he doesn’t have to do so for very long.  When he looks again, Allura is gone.  And in her place, there’s a tall, white stallion with eagle wings.

“You shapeshifted,” Keith breathes.  “Straight up.  Into fucking  _ Pegasus _ .”

Somehow, this world is still surprising him.

Around them, pairs of yellow eyes light up the darkness.  Allura whinnies desperately, stomping her front hooves, and Keith doesn’t need more encouragement than that.  She ducks her head, and Keith clambers onto her back, leaning forward enough so he can wrap his arms around her neck. He uses the knife’s cloth to wrap its blade instead of its hilt and tucks it into the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs.

Then, she’s darting forward.  He cries out as something monstrous jumps at their feet, but Allura doesn’t falter.  Her wings beat hard, and the galloping stops, and then they’re  _ flying _ .  

Keith doesn’t know what to do.  He watches the ground beneath them fall away, and the wind is biting at his nose.  He distantly wishes he had brought a hair tie.  The forest spills across the land for miles, and without glamour, Keith can see the clashing territories of Galleria and Altea for the first time.

He sits up a little straighter.  Galleria stands in the far distance, lit up with torchlight.  The lion’s eyes gleam, even at night.  And, beyond the cascading waterfalls of its borders, lies Altea.  And Keith isn’t really sure what he was expecting, but it’s not this.

At first, they appear to be tiny pinpricks of light scattered through the trees.  But, he looks closer, and Altea reveals itself to be a collection of treehouses.  From above, he can see that they connect with bridges and walkways, and it blends so seamlessly with the Earth that he understands immediately what element Altea is meant to represent.  He’s starting to get it.

The five elements from the mosaic in the cathedral--one of them must have been Earth, or life, or nature.  It makes sense that Altea, the representation of that element, would utilize its surroundings the way it has.

“Lotor said I was a child of Agni,” he shouts over the wind, even though he knows Allura can’t answer.  “I don’t know what that is, but I did  _ fire _ magic.  Did you hear about that?”

He feels like Allura is nodding.  Whatever.  He’s mostly speaking to himself, anyway.

“I have no idea what happened,” he says.  “It’s like I just exploded.  And I felt this...thing in my chest, like something burst in my heart.  It’s hard to explain.”

She probably knows what it’s like, considering she’s the fucking  _ princess _ of a magical fairy realm, but he digresses.

“And then I--I thought about how much I wanted my friends to forget about everything,” he continues.  “I felt the same buildup in my chest.  I think maybe I cast magic that tried to put everything back to normal, but I overshot and I was way too sloppy.  That also seems kind of OP.”

Altering reality?  To the point where he made entire swaths of the community forget about the fact that he had been missing?  Yeah, sure, he might have skipped over a single evidence marker in his apartment.  He might have forgotten to entirely erase pictures.  And maybe his mate bond made it impossible for him to truly  _ forget _ .

He shuts up, because they’re approaching the gates of Galleria.  Allura must have chosen this form for two reasons--one, because it’s fast.  Two, because they’re able to get across the chasm with ease, completely bypassing the water bridge.  She lands silently, just inside the gate, next to the bridge’s docking area.

Keith dismounts, and by the time he turns around to face her properly, she’s already back to her normal form.  Her expression is conflicted.  “Princess?  Are you okay?”

“Don’t tell anyone I did that.”  Her voice is flat.  “Please.”

He blinks.  He vaguely remembers that shapeshifting is a taboo--maybe even sacrilege, and he realizes how big of a deal that was.  He realizes what Allura did for him and his lips part, but he can’t find anything to say.  With Kuro bonded to him, she could let both of them die without consequence.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Keith asks quietly.  “Kuro.  He must mean a lot.”

She gives him a grim smile.  “I’ve never been  _ banned _ from Galleria, like my mother.  Lotor cares about me too much.  So, I’ve seen...things.  And I took care of Kuro when he was first released from Haggar’s lab.”

She motions with her head, implying they should talk and walk.  Keith assumes she’s going towards Kuro and Lotor, but his mate bond feels like static, right now, so he has no idea.  He tries to keep pace, although she’s  _ fast _ .

“Does he know what I am?” he asks shakily.  “Do  _ you _ know what I am?”

“We don’t have time to talk about that, Keith,” she snaps.  “Later.  Right now, all we’re focused on is saving Kuro.”

“What’s happening to him…?”

He doesn’t like that they’re approaching the arena.  Its towering walls and giant torches lining the crest indicate that  _ something _ is happening inside.  He hears the crescendo of the crowd and swallows, because Allura doesn’t answer immediately, and that means--

“He’s in there?” Keith asks.  “Is Lotor making him fight?”

“Can I ask you what your bond feels like, right now?” 

Keith swallows.  “Confusing.  Nothing, really.  It’s like there’s interference or something.”

She closes her eyes, as if to compose herself.  “He gave Kuro to Haggar.”

Keith’s stomach drops.  “Wh-what?”

“You might not see your mate in there,” she says, voice quiet.  “You need to bring him back, Keith.  You need to do whatever it takes.”

“Bring him back?” Keith repeats.  What the fuck?  He’s not even in the arena?  So, why are they going?  “Where is he?”

“Trapped within himself.”

She moves towards the entrance before he can ask any more questions.

There are two guards at the front gate who immediately try to attack, but Allura knocks them both to the side with ease, swishing her hands through the air like it’s nothing.  Keith doesn’t even comment.  As a princess, she must be pretty damn powerful--enough that this is easy for her.  Lotor has pretty piss poor security, if that’s the case.

Once they enter, to his right is a corridor that leads to stairs; presumably, to ascend to the higher seating areas.  To his left, he sees the entrance to the arena itself.  It’s similar to the entrance he came through before with his friends, so he knows that, once he goes beyond that door, there’s no going back.

He runs towards it as fast as he can.  There’s already a battle taking place--he can see flashes of movement, can hear the dying screams of cryptids.

“Keith!” Allura shouts, chasing after him.  When he doesn’t stop, he feels a strong tug that nearly trips him, trapping him in place.  “If you go out there, you might die.  I’m coming with you.”

He has no idea  _ why _ he might die, if Kuro’s there, fighting.  Something sick settles in his gut.  “You’re too important, Princess.  You have people to lead.  You need to get out of here.”

“I won’t abandon him,” she says with a fractured voice.  “I haven’t yet and I never will.”

He isn’t going to convince her.  He sees fire in her eyes and realizes it’s fruitless to try and persuade her to stay back, so he nods curtly.  “Good luck, then.”

Then, Keith dashes into the ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK OK LETS GO FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

He sees several things at once.  First, he immediately glances at the spectator’s box, where he sees Lotor standing, but the prince doesn’t look shocked to see him.  In fact, he looks  _ pleased _ .  The door to the entrance slams shut behind them, but Keith doesn’t flinch.

Secondly, he sees Kuro, his back facing Keith and Allura as he faces what looks to be a hairless humanoid.  It’s dying with a wail, and Keith knows this is too easy, but he closes the distance across the arena, anyway.

“Kuro!”  He’s kicking up sand behind him, and Lotor isn’t stopping him.  Lotor doesn’t even seem to care.  “Kuro, it’s me!”

His bond still feels blurry.  Confused.  When Kuro turns to look over his shoulder at Keith, he’s smirking, and Keith skids to a halt.  It’s the same smirk Keith saw him wearing when Kuro captured him.  It strikes fear throughout his body, and his bond turns  _ sharp _ , twisting through his heart like a dagger.

He hears Allura appear beside him, and they both look on apprehensively as Kuro takes his time to face them.  His t-shirt is tattered, but on his right arm, there’s a  _ mess _ of blackness; a web of dark veins originating from his clawed, shadowy hand.,

“What did they do to you?” Allura breathes.  “Kuro...I’m sorry.  I didn’t get here quickly enough.”

Kuro shrugs.  “You gave them time to fix me  _ right _ up.”

They’re back where they started.  Only, this time, Kuro doesn’t look like he’s going to take Keith to the cave and fuck him so hard that he forgets his own name.  When he grins, his teeth are sharp, and Keith takes a step back.

“You can’t kill me, Allura,” Kuro sings.  “You’ll kill him, too.  My  _ mate _ .”

Keith hates how he spits the word, like it means nothing.  “Kuro, please.  I won’t hurt you.  I can’t.”

“That’s right, you can’t.”  Kuro approaches them, slowly.  “But, Lotor wants a pet.  And, luckily, you’re not of use to me, Kitten.  You never were.  How  _ terribly _ convenient that you made it so easy to protect me, baby.”

It feels wrong.  Coming from this monster’s lips, the names feel distorted and unnatural.  “Take me.  Take me with you.  I don’t care.  Lotor can have me.”

“So self sacrificing,” Kuro tsks.  “But, I’m not interested in you right now, Kitten.  I know I could get you to succumb to me.  And, if necessary, I’ll kill you--I have no issues dying for my Prince.”

Kuro’s gaze slides to Allura.  “But, the Princess?  She’s a fighter.  I can’t kill her, Kitten, but I can get her pretty damn close to the brink.”

If they’re captured, Altea will be without a leader.  Allura will be mortally wounded, and Keith will become a toy.  Allura will likely be Lotor’s prisoner until he mates with Keith, and then she’ll be killed.  Keith’s mind spins, trying to find a way out, but there isn’t one.  There isn’t a choice but to fight his mate.  There isn’t a  _ choice _ but to kill him before he can harm Allura, before he can make her defenseless against Lotor.

Kuro rushes them, clawed hand raised.  He doesn’t have time to draw his knife.

Allura shouts for Keith to move, and she rolls out of the way, and it’s clear that Kuro’s attention is on the Princess.  He falls to all fours, like an animal, crouched the way a predatory would before zeroing in on prey.  

“Don’t worry about me,” Keith begs her.  “Kill him if you have to, Allura!”

She shakes her head, eyes welling with tears.  “I’m not--I’m not hurting  _ either _ of you.”

Kuro is going to kill her.

When Allura does nothing, and Kuro charges, Keith screams, palms raised.  He feels power unleash from him like a pressure valve being twisted, and the dirt  _ explodes _ with the force of his magic.  The blow knocks Kuro to the side, and the shapeshifter rolls, before glaring at Keith and  _ growling _ .

“You have to kill me,” Keith confirms.  “You have to go through me, first.”

Kuro doesn’t respond with words.  Instead, he moves in a blur, grabbing Keith by the throat and slamming him to the ground.  The darkness of Kuro’s hand  _ burns _ .  Keith chokes as claws puncture the skin on his neck, and he kicks his feet desperately.  But, he’s getting pretty good at releasing power, isn’t he?  It’s hardly controlled, and he has no idea how he’s doing it, but the force that exudes from him throws Kuro away from his body.  In his wake, claws leave deep gashes on his neck, and Keith prays he didn’t hit an artery.

When he stands, Kuro’s forehead is dripping blood as he rises to his feet.  His teeth are bared.  Crimson drips down, staining Keith’s shirt.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Allura taking the opportunity to raise her arms against the spectator’s box.  The energy he sees seems to draw from the air, manifesting into a bright green lightning bolt.  Just before it strikes Lotor’s throne, it ricochets off an invisible force.  The fucker put up some kind of shield, and Allura screams in frustration.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Lotor laughs.  “Come now, Allura.  You know me better than that.”

Kuro must not see her as a threat, because he slams into Keith’s side, wrestling him to the ground.  He rears his arm back to jab his claws into Keith’s stomach, but Keith finds a weak spot in his grip and kicks him off.  He follows with a burst of power, but Kuro dodges.  The shapeshifter tackles him once more, claws at his throat, and Keith cries out when pain shoots across his wounds.

Kuro laughs.

And Keith goes still.

It’s the same laugh.  The one he heard after the first camping trip, when Kuro was trying to impersonate Shiro but couldn’t  _ quite _ get it right.  It’s the laugh Keith was unnerved by, and then suspicious of, and then scared of.  It’s  _ imitation _ that can only be performed by a shapeshifter--one who has consumed another being.  One who has absorbed a soul, their memories, and their mannerism.  

“Shiro,” Keith rasps without thinking.  “Shiro, stop.”

He’s only slightly stunned when Kuro stills, his smirk falling instantly.  Keith’s heart pounds, and he shakes, because he doesn’t know if this is going to  _ work _ but he doesn’t know what else to do.  It’s his last shot.

“You saved him, before,” Keith whispers.  Tears roll down his cheeks, and for a moment, he sees  _ Shiro _ .  “You helped him be a person again, Shiro.  You made him remember what it’s like to be human, like no one else could.”

Kuro pulls back.  He’s helplessly confused, and kneeling in the dirt.  Keith scrambles to follow, and takes Kuro’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together.  Come on,  _ work _ .

“I know you’re in there,” Keith says as he tries to keep his voice as strong as possible.  “I know you made him okay, again.  And he  _ loves _ me.  And you’re trying to protect me, I can feel it, like you did before.”

He hears Shiro’s voice, broken and soft.  “Keith…”

“I miss you, Takashi.”  Keith strokes his hair, holds him close.  “I miss you.  And I know you miss me, too.  You understand him better than anyone.  You know how to bring him back to me.  Takashi,  _ please _ .  Please, help us.  Help me.”

Keith feels strong arms wrap around his body, pulling him, and he feels warm, stuttering breaths by his neck.  “Promise to be happy, for me.”

“I promise,” Keith sobs quietly.  “I promise, Takashi, I’ll be happy.”

He feels his mate bond tie itself together, beating with two hearts, once again.  He hadn’t realized how much he  _ lost _ until he gains it back.  The sensation pulls another wracked sob from his chest, and he clings to Kuro, twisting his fingers into the shapeshifter’s hair.  The crowd is silent as Kuro tugs him closer like Keith will disappear if he releases him.

“I’m sorry,” Kuro mutters into his skin.  “Fuck, Keith, I’m sorry, I tried to fight it.”

“It’s okay.”  Keith clenches his eyes shut, and pretends they’re alone.  “It’s okay, it’s okay.  I love you.  Don’t think about that, right now.”

That’s when he hears Lotor’s enraged scream from the spectator’s box.  Allura is above them, now, helping them both to their feet.  Kuro has his arm firmly around Keith’s waist, unwilling to let him go.  In a flash, Lotor is in the arena, standing before them.  It takes a bit of struggling, but Keith manages to break free of Kuro’s hold.  He squares his shoulders as he meets Lotor, full-on.

“I don’t know  _ what _ you are,” Lotor says.  “I don’t know where you’re  _ from _ .  But, I’ve been on this throne hundreds of years, and I’m not stepping down for some  _ vermin _ .”

Glamour hits him, harsh and biting, like a cold wind in the dead of winter.  Keith digs his heels into the ground and grits his teeth.  There is genuine shock in Lotor’s expression, and Keith would laugh, but fighting the glamour is draining and he needs his concentration.

“You’re  _ nothing _ !” Lotor shouts.  “You think you can kill me?  You can’t kill me!”

The prince is right--if Keith kills Lotor, he kills Allura.  

“Do it, Keith,” she tells him, gripping his arm.  “Please, it’s  _ better _ this way.  Kill him.”

Something overwhelms Keith, then.  It crawls up his back like a close companion.  For a moment, everything fades away; Keith closes his eyes and  _ breathes _ .  Energy surrounds him, and he gathers it from the air.  It’s power like he’s never felt before.  He feels unstoppable, immortal, and when he opens his eyes, Lotor is immobile.  He’s speechless.  Keith wants to flick him out of existence.

“I don’t have to kill you,” Keith tells him.  He doesn’t recognize his own voice.  “I just have to get you out of my way.”

He feels  _ possessed _ when his hand raises into the air, pointed at Lotor.  It’s not his energy that flows to his fingertips.  It’s not  _ his _ magic that courses through his body.

“You’ve always been misguided,” he says.  “And you’ve finally meddled exactly where you don’t belong.”

The magic is overwhelming.  It channels through him, a vessel, an object that the power uses to encase Lotor in a pillar of light that shoots into the heavens.  The skies part, lightning flashes, and he drags the ether from the atmosphere down to Earth.  The air shifts, his mouth goes dry as moisture evaporates, the ground beneath his feet tremors, and the torches around the arena explode into infernos.

As quickly as the cacophony begins, it’s over.

Keith falls to his knees.  He retches, gasping, as blood rushes to his head and coats his vision in stars.  He’s too numb to feel Kuro embrace him, too dazed to understand why Allura is stepping past them, cautiously and fearfully.

Allura.  He’s not dead.  He can’t be dead, if she’s alive.  Keith snaps his head up, ready to attack--but there’s nothing there.

Allura stands where Lotor once was, bends to the ground, and picks up a shiny, violet gem that sparkles in the torchlight.

Keith has never heard a more tense quiet in his life.  When Allura glances at him, he sees apprehension.  Hesitation.  Like she’s afraid of him.  Keith has done powerful magic, he realizes--more powerful than should be possible.

The reality of the situation slowly dawns upon him, and Allura turns the gem over in her hand.  It’s Lotor.   _ He transformed Lotor into a gemstone _ .

The only thing that keeps him from falling apart is Kuro holding his pieces together.

* * *

Thace and Ulaz are surprisingly okay with losing their brother.

Miraculously, without Lotor around, the throne room feels less sinister and more extravagant.  More noble.  Keith stands before the two Fae, who are discussing something he can’t understand.  He’s learning slowly that the Fae have their own language, though it appears to be rarely used.  Yet another step into this world that opens a thousand doors at once.

Kuro is by his side, as he has been since the arena.  He’s been touching Keith somehow, some way, the entire time.  His shoulder, his waist, his hand.  Keith doesn’t mind.  He feels whole with Kuro, feels comforted.

Allura is to his right.  She’s still grasping the stone, and she refused to hand it to Thace and Ulaz when they asked for it.  They didn’t fight with her about it.  Though she may have a connection to the mate bond, still, the stone’s safety essentially ensures her life.

Finally, Thace turns to Keith.  He’s taller than Lotor, and his hair is stark white, spiked by his ears and buzzed short in the front.  His eyes are kind.  It’s jarring, to think that this man is related to Lotor.

“What you did is technically treason,” Thace tells Keith.  Kuro’s eyes narrow.  “Lotor was right about your assassination attempt, as well.  Both you and the shapeshifter should be put to death.”

“His name is Kuro,” Keith and Allura snap at the same time.

Thace blinks, and glances back to Ulaz, who shrugs.  “However.  Lotor’s reign was a dictatorship.  His people, including us, his sires, are exhausted of his rule.”

“In accordance with this, you shall not be punished,” Ulaz says.  He has an odd accent, and an abnormally sharp jaw.  “We are not sure what you are, and we are not sure what kingdom from which you hail.  And, so, punishment becomes a blur.”

“I don’t hail from any kingdom,” Keith says.  “I don’t know... _ what _ I am, but--”

“You have untold power,” Thace interrupts.  “And, for that, we must be cautious.  However, surveillance does not fall to us, even if you are within our territory.”

Allura doesn’t argue this.  Neither does Kuro.  But, Keith has no idea what the fuck they’re talking about, and feels himself shiver.  “Who does it fall to?”

“Lullias,” Ulaz answers.  “You could think of the kingdom as a human capital, of sorts.  No doubt you have captured their attention, Keith.”

His gaze falls to the ground.  He has no idea what that actually means, but it doesn’t sound good--it sounds like some fucked up Fae United Nations, ready to kick his ass for saving people he cares about.  Realistically, he doesn’t care about the consequences of his actions if it means Kuro and Allura are alive.

“As it happens, Haggar has also disappeared,” Thace tells them.  “Without a royal mage, we’ll have difficulty rebuilding, but it won’t be impossible.  Still, it means the forest will be incredibly dangerous.  You must not wander alone--she will have her creatures patrolling, even during the day.”

“We cannot protect you, here,” Ulaz tells Keith.  “While we are letting you walk free, we also wish you luck, and hope you will accept our gifts of thanks.”

“I don’t--that’s really not necessary,” Keith stammers.  “I broke laws.”

Thace gives him a knowing smile.  “Laws are made to be broken, are they not?”

Keith grimaces.  “Seriously?”

Ulaz approaches with something wrapped in a brown cloth--where the fuck did that come from?--and hands it to Keith.  The weight of it is heavy, and he isn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t drop it.  He peels back the cloth to reveal his prize.

It’s a pan flute, the size of a pencil.  Engraved on the front is the symbol that Lotor burned into the wall of the cave.  It has six holes along its shaft, and Keith turns it over in his hands, but there doesn’t seem to be anything special about it.

“It bears our family crest,” Thace points out.  “Whenever you use this flute, know that help from Galleria is on its way.”

That is  _ painfully _ cliche, but Keith doesn’t have the heart to tell them that.  After all, they’re not exactly familiar with human fiction.  Kuro, however, hides a snort behind a cough.

Keith steps on his foot.

“Thank you,” Keith says earnestly, as Kuro inhales sharply.  “You’re much nicer than Lotor.”

Allura swats him swiftly on his ass.

* * *

The first thing Keith notices about Altea is that it’s quiet; while Galleria was eerie because such silence was not voluntary, Altea reminds him of a suburban neighborhood in the middle of January.  Calm, peaceful, and mutually harmonized.

Allura points them to a bath house, where they can finally wash away the blood and grime that has accumulated over the past day.  They don’t fuck, surprisingly, but they do lean against one another in the warm waters, soapy and content.  Keith is pretty sure he dozes off for a few minutes before Kuro rouses him, complaining that he’s pruning.  Allura provides them with comfortable, loose clothing that’s  _ clean _ and Keith has to appreciate it, especially because Kuro has been wearing the same ruined  _ Strokes _ shirt for three days.

There are no borders around the kingdom, and it sort of just  _ begins _ , in the middle of the forest before it stretches as far as he can see.  Nestled in the very center of it all is a temple, built into an ancient, magnificent tree.  Keith is  _ dying _ to reference the Tree of Life from Animal Kingdom, and he’s sure Kuro is biting back the words, but they manage to stay silent.  It’s a feat--especially when they see engravings on the tree that depict a variety of animals.

“Oh my God,” Keith mutters.  “Really?  Really.  This is copyright infringement.”

“Pretty sure fairies did it first,” Kuro reminds him.  “I bet you the guy at Disney who planned that shit in the first place probably mated with a Fae or something.”

“ _ What _ on Earth are you two talking about?” Allura asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Keith shakes his head innocently.  “Nothing!  Just appreciating the architecture.”

“Our original palace was burned to the ground in a dispute with Agni,” Allura explains.  The entrance is a wide and open doorway, leading to an extravagant inner foyer.  “My father built this when he first gained his power.”

Honestly, at this point, Keith is too tired to even question the inner workings of Altean nobility.  He just wants to fall into Kuro and go to sleep for days.  Some other time, perhaps.  Allura leads them up a set of polished wood stairs, curving around the edges of the foyer.

The halls of the palace are lit by golden lanterns, though it provides a brighter atmosphere than Galleria ever did.  Keith appreciates the warm welcoming of fellow Alteans as they pass by.  They don’t look like servants--they appear well-dressed and poised, and don’t look twice at Kuro, despite his amber eyes.

“Who are they?” Keith asks.

“The palace is free for anyone to use,” Allura says.  “We have community gathering rooms, and beds for the less fortunate.  Our meals are held collectively in the downstairs banquet hall.”

Keith whistles.  “That’s a lot of people to cram into one space.”

“Altea is the smallest of all the kingdoms,” she says.  “We like to stick together.  We share borders with Galleria, with the intent of combining our people to accomplish something great.  It didn’t pan out.”

Clearly.  Hopefully, that will change with Ulaz and Thace in power.

Allura leads them to the top floor of the palace, where she pushes open an ornate wooden door.  It creaks, and Keith steps inside, only to be  _ floored _ by what he sees.

It’s a grand bedroom--more like a suite, really, with incredible space.  Windows line the west wall, and the light of rising dawn illuminates the room, along with numerous lanterns.  In the very center, pressed against the north wall, is a bed larger than Keith has ever seen.  It’s draped with gossamer white cloth, and framed by pine wood, and there are fucking  _ steps _ leading up to it.

“Allura, what…”  Keith turns to stare at her, bewildered.  “Is this seriously…?”

“Your quarters,” she finishes, nodding.  “I can keep you as safe as I can here.  You won’t have to worry about Haggar’s cryptids wandering inside.”

She turns to Kuro, raising an eyebrow.  “ _ And _ I can actually feed you properly, unlike your mate.”

“I tried my best,” Kuro defends, pretending to be offended as he places a hand on his chest.  “You  _ wound _ me.”

“This is way too much,” Keith stutters.  “This place is--meant for royalty.”

“It’s meant for friends,” she assures him.  “You are welcome here, Keith.  We’ll need to be more cautious with Haggar roaming free.”

“Thanks, ‘Lur,” Kuro says softly, giving her the smallest of smiles.  “It means a lot.”

“Play nice,” she quips as she heads towards the door, and Keith flushes.  “Be good.  Try to stay  _ somewhat _ quiet.”

“No promises,” Kuro grins.

The door shuts, and they’re alone.

It’s surprisingly awkward.  Keith blinks, and stares at Kuro, who stares back.  There’s  _ so much _ to talk about, and he doesn’t know where to start, and he’s also fucking exhausted.  He’s wired on adrenaline, though, and he knows he won’t be able to sleep.  To break the silence, he moves towards the windows, and takes out his phone.

The screen is cracked down the middle, and he groans.  “Aw, come on.”

“It’s not like you’ll need it out here,” Kuro says from behind him, and Keith feels strong arms around his middle.  “Though, there is a little bit of a problem.”

Keith exhales.  “Christ, what  _ else _ ?”

“Your friends,” Kuro tells him.  “You went missing again.  They’ll come looking for you.”

Keith had buried that thought so far in the back of his mind, because if it were front and center, he would have been killed in that arena.  Of course he wants them to be safe, and he wants them to be home.  But the thought of them never seeing him again, the thought of them being heartbroken and wondering why their best friend disappeared...it makes his heart ache.  At least they didn’t seem to remember Shiro in the slightest.

“Part of me wishes I could make them forget me, too,” Keith whispers.  “It would be better that way.”

Kuro stays silent for a long time.  Then, he says, “Keith, I’ve never seen anyone cast magic like that.  Elemental attacks is one thing, but you literally altered reality.”

Keith pulls away from his mate’s grasp and stares at his nails, picking at them.  “I know.  It’s like glamour on steroids.  The entire town forgot about Shiro.  Like, I missed a few pieces here and there, but the others didn’t even question why he wasn’t there.”

He can’t see Kuro’s face, but he knows there is anguish written across it.  “You remembered him, though.”

Guilt washes over Keith.  Shiro may have somehow saved Kuro-- _ somehow _ \--but that doesn’t change the fact that Keith was declaring his pain surrounding Shiro’s absence.  It sounded a lot like Keith was wishing Shiro were here, instead.

“I won’t apologize for missing him,” Keith tells the shapeshifter.  “He was still my best friend.”

“But you wish he were still here,” Kuro says, pained.  “I don’t want to be discount Shiro, for you.”

Keith inhales sharply.  He’s not sure how to respond to that.  Inside, he knows that Kuro is  _ Kuro _ and he loves his mate for that, not because he consumed Shiro.  He doesn’t even associate this body with Shiro, anymore.  It’s Kuro.  There’s no question.

“I need respect when it comes to him,” Keith says firmly.  “I don’t want him instead of you.  And he’s gone, now.  There’s nothing I can do about that.  I don’t blame you, and I never will.”

Kuro stares at the ground, and Keith isn’t sure if he looks guilty or upset with his mate.  

“But it still hurts that he’s not here,” Keith whispers.  “If you were standing next to one another right now, I--I’d choose you.  He knows that.  I know that.  He could never have loved me like you do, and I could never love someone who didn’t want me back.”

Kuro’s expression changes when Keith approaches and takes both of his hands.  Keith brings Kuro’s right arm to his lips--it still looks charred, and there are still jagged claws, but he supposes now is not the time to bring that up. 

“I love you,” Kuro tells him earnestly.  “You’re everything to me.”

Keith can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.  “I love you, too.”

“I know you’re tired, but...can we?”  It’s obvious what he’s asking.  “I never thought I would have you again.”

Keith smirks.  “Baby, you could fuck me in my sleep and I would still love it.”

Kuro pulls him in for a kiss, and Keith gasps into his mouth, and suddenly his heart is pounding with arousal.  That’s all it takes, he thinks sardonically.  A kiss from his mate, and Kuro picking him up by his thighs to carry him to their bed.   _ Their bed _ .

Kuro cages Keith with his body and Keith sighs into their kisses, rough and loving all at once.  But, Keith doesn’t want to be underneath of Kuro, this time.  Keith wants to be in control, because he’s discovered he  _ likes _ control, a little more than he would ever admit.

“Let me ride you,” he breathes, and Kuro groans.  

“Jesus, Keith--do you know what you fucking do to me, sometimes?”

Keith grins.  “Let me, please.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Kuro mutters before rolling onto his back.  “Be my guest, babe.”

Keith is almost too overwhelmed to move.  He’s never gotten this privilege with Kuro, before.  His eyes are wide, and he sits back on his haunches, unsure how to continue.  A thought hits him like a gust of wind, and he wavers.

“I met you two weeks ago,” he muses, awed.  “But I’m about to fuck you like I’ve known you for ages.”

Kuro’s expression softens, and his voice changes just  _ slightly _ .  “I’ve known you for ten years, remember?”

Keith swallows and meets his glowing gaze.  Yes.  Yes, he supposes that’s true.

Without another word, Keith strips off his shirt, tossing the clothing over the side of the bed.  His binder is a bit worn when he pulls it off, but he’ll be able to find a substitute eventually.  Kuro follows, revealing the smooth planes of his chest, and Keith feels like the luckiest man in the world.  When they kiss, skin against skin, Keith buries his fingers into Kuro’s hair and thanks whatever disciples out there that he still has  _ this _ .

He moves down Kuro’s body, kissing hot skin and trailing his fingertips down Kuro’s ribcage.  The shapeshifter’s lips part, and he arches his back into the touch, and Keith can’t help but grin.  His heart is thudding hard in his chest at the sight of Kuro, unraveling underneath of him.

“Keith, fuck,” Kuro mutters. 

“Getting to that,” Keith murmurs.  “I’m taking my time.”

In fact, he goes at an agonizingly slow pace when he pulls at Kuro’s bottoms, tugging them away from his thighs and pushing them out of the way.  Kuro is already painfully hard, and Keith unashamedly wets his bottom lip in appreciation.  He feels himself throbbing between his thighs, his body begging for Kuro’s cock.

He’s drawing it out, though.  He wants it to last.

When he takes Kuro’s cock into his mouth, the shapeshifter cries out, shoving his hand into Keith’s hair.  Keith just drops his jaw as far as it will go, and experiments by seeing how much he can take.  He’s only blown a few guys in his life, but he feels like he’s pretty decent at it, and he enjoys it.  Kuro seems to be having an excellent time.

Keith starts to bob his head and supplements the motion with a few pumps of his hand.  He flattens his tongue against the shaft, and pulls back to tease the head with his lips.  Kuro is staring down at him with hooded eyes and bitten-red lips.

“Your cock makes me  _ so _ wet,” Keith teases.  Kuro’s reaction is visceral, and he bucks his hips into Keith’s face, rubbing his cock along Keith’s cheek.  “I want it inside of me so badly.”

“Do it, then,” Kuro encourages.  “Do it, baby--ride my cock.”

Keith would  _ like _ to continue toying with Kuro’s cock until his mate tips over the edge, but he likes the idea of being filled up with Kuro’s come much better.  So, he rises to his knees, straddling Kuro’s waist and adjusting the position of his cock.

The stretch is incredible.  From this position, he can feel Kuro’s cock go so deep inside of him, so much deeper than it’s been in the past.  He’s able to fully seat himself, and his breathing is reduced to heavy panting, vision blurry.

Kuro’s hands grip his hips and he thrusts upwards.  Keith feels like he’s being impaled, and he loves it, chasing after the feeling by rocking himself forward.  “Kuro, fuck, you’re so deep--”

Keith leans forward, supports himself with his hands on either side of Kuro’s body, and starts to bounce his hips.  Each time, he can feel Kuro’s cock threatening to slip away, so he desperately pushes down again to be filled once more.  He rests his forehead on Kuro’s chest as he reaches between them and starts to toy with his clit.

“You feel so good, baby,” Kuro praises, voice strained with pleasure.  “God, you’re so wet for me.”

The fire inside of Keith is raging too strong, and he knows his limit is a short fuse.  Through choked breaths, Keith whimpers, “I-I’m gonna c--hng!”

“Come for me,” Kuro growls in his ear, possessively and roughly.  “Come on my cock.”

Keith comes so hard that he can’t keep his eyes open.  His body stills, jerks forward, and his mouth drops open, releasing a moan he didn’t know he was capable of making.  “ _ Fuck _ , baby--”

He feels Kuro filling him to the brim just a few thrusts later, and Keith bites back his smile at the feeling of Kuro bursting inside of him.  It spills down his thighs, onto his clit and fingers, and he makes sure Kuro is watching when he licks it away.

They’re both breathing too hard to speak.  Keith rolls to the side, and Kuro gathers him close, pressing a kiss into his hair.  Keith spends a few moments listening to Kuro’s rapid heartbeat, and he loves that it’s still  _ there _ .

“Mine,” Kuro whispers.

Keith smiles peacefully.  “Yours.”


	9. Epilogue

He sends Lance a text the next day (that is, the day  _ after _ they spend all the waking hours knocked the fuck out, before fucking all night--their sleeping schedule is ruined).  He doesn’t explain it.  He just tells Lance that a woman with white hair will meet them at the forest’s edge, and they’ll go from there.

Allura does not turn into a pegasus.  Keith knows it’s a source of shame, and she probably doesn’t want to pull that move in the daylight.  But, within an hour or so, Allura breaks through the treeline with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge in tow.

Keith saw them only a few days ago, but he still rushes forward to pull Lance into a hug, expecting the others to join; they do, and Keith wills himself not to cry.  “I’m sorry I made you forget.  I wanted to keep you safe.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Lance asks, laughing nervously.  “Forget what?”

He’s not really sure if he can do this, but he shrugs his shoulders and focuses his energy on what he  _ wants _ .  He wants them all to remember, and reversing his own reality-altering spell ends up being a little more exhausting than anticipated.  Keith stares into the ether and knits together the stitches that he tore apart.  He grabs memories and pulls them into the correct positions.  He reaches through spacetime to reorient reality.  He doesn’t stop until Lance and the others gasp with realization.

Kuro whistles.  “We are  _ definitely _ gonna get a talking to because of that magic, babe.”

“Excellent control, Keith,” Allura praises.  “Removing glamour is not an easy task.”

Lance looks dazed as all fuck, but he quickly recovers and glowers at Keith.  “You didn’t have to take away our memories, man.”

“I had to get us out of there,” Keith reasons.  “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Hunk interrupts.  “You--Keith Kogane, my best friend--used magic to transport us, completely rearrange reality, and take away our memories in one go?”

Keith awkwardly rocks back and forth on his feet.  “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“No offense, dude, but this is fucking awesome,” Pidge says.  “Like, I know I’m probably supposed to be all cautious and scared and shit, but this is literally the coolest thing to ever happen, ever.”

Keith can’t really argue with that.

“I have to stay here, though,” he says.  “In Altea.  We don’t know what my magic could do out there, and we’re worried I’ll...attract cryptids.”

Lance’s expression falls.  “What, like...forever?”

“Maybe not forever,” Keith says with a half smile.  “But, for a long time.  And I wanted to make sure that I’ll still see you guys, so I worked something out.”

He motions to Allura, who presents three necklaces.  Each has a bottle for a pendant, and inside, there are tiny scrolls.  His friends examine them; they appear normal, like any other necklace.

“The scroll is inscribed with protection spells and wards,” Allura explains.  “You should be able to wear this and walk safely through the forest to get to Altea.  You’ll know the right direction; they’ll start glowing brighter when you get closer.”

“You guys don’t have to come,” Keith assures them.  “I just figured it’d be easier to do something like this, rather than do anything riskier.”

“Of course we’ll come, you idiot,” Lance says incredulously.  “We’ll come, like, every day!”

“Maybe not every day,” Pidge groans.  “It’s an hour hike.”

“Okay, well, once a week, then,” Lance compromises.  “But we’ll  _ definitely _ visit.  Shit, dude.  What are we gonna tell your professors?”

“I dropped out,” Keith shrugs.  “It’s not a lie.  Besides, I don’t need to worry about rocket science when I have magic, right?”

“Allura told us everything on the way here,” Hunk says.  “You seriously did that?  You turned Lotor into a rock?”

“Not sure if it’s something to be proud of, necessarily,” Keith mumbles.  “But, yeah.  I did that.”

“And we’re waiting for someone to turn off his God mod,” Kuro sighs.  “Talk about  _ camping _ .”

It’s good to hear everyone laugh, again.

Especially Kuro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND ITS DONE
> 
> thank you guys so much for being so encouraging. i literally finished this today because i, myself, wanted to see what would happen even though i already sort of knew. idk why but i've never fallen in love with a world so hard before!!!??
> 
> i am probably gonna write a sequel cus im fucking weak and also i never have been so proud of myself :D IT MEANS A LOT THAT U GUYS SUPPORTED MEEEEEEEEe
> 
> ok and last but not least hmu on twit @hitchups i love to hear from you guys and i love reactions and?? i love u??? i love u kuro style


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